Incentive
by dna2000
Summary: Modern AU. Mary and Matthew are at university together and Mary is in desperate need of Matthew's help. He is reluctant to do so...so she offers him some incentive. Pretty smutty.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: before you say anything – I KNOW that I am seriously behind with updating Unwanted Rings. But this randomly happened the other day while I was at home from work because I was unwell, and I thought I'd post it as it would give me a chance to let you guys know that I am in the middle of the next UR chapter, and it is taking shape! So won't be too long _

_Not much to say about this other than that it is pretty naughty._

…

"Oh Matthew, stop being such a goody-two-shoes." Mary complained in a loud whisper.

"I'm not being a goody-two-shoes!" Matthew whispered back, perturbed. "You need to learn the value of doing your own work!"

Mary sat back in her chair with a huff and glared at the young man sitting next to her.

"I thought I could rely on you." She whispered sourly, hoping the guilt angle might be more successful than the demanding one.

"I'm doing you a favour." Was Matthew's distinctly guilt-free response. "There won't be anyone around to rely on in the real world." He said, his eyes returning to the multitude of books neatly spread out on the library desk in front of him.

Mary's glare intensified. He could be so bloody self-righteous. She'd had a perfectly good reason for missing lectures last week - one of her friends from home had hosted a gathering in Monaco for his 20th birthday, with week-long lavish celebrations in a villa. It would have been downright rude for Mary not to attend.

Nevertheless, she had briefly debated whether it was too risky to neglect her studies for that week - a judge from the ECJ was giving a series of guest lectures on significant EU law cases which were almost guaranteed to come up in the exam that summer - but she knew that Matthew would lend her his notes and guide her through the work. He always did and, in any case, his notes were far more detailed and accurate than her notes ever were or ever would be, so it would have been a waste of time to attend.

Sensing that her steely gaze was still fixed on him, Matthew glanced sideways at her and made a peace-offering. "I recorded the lectures so if you want you can borrow my dictaphone." The truth was that he didn't like Mary being disappointed in him. But she needed to sort out her priorities if she was going to aim for a serious career after they graduated in eighteen months' time.

"How would that help?" Mary retorted, her whispers less quiet than they were before. "It'll take me the same amount of time to listen to the recordings and make my notes as if I'd just attended the lectures in the first place! Honestly, you can be so dim."

"Will you stop giving me abuse, woman?" Matthew replied, playfully flicking a pen lid at her.

"Don't call me-"

"Will you two shut up?!" Anna, who had been diligently trying to ignore the argument on the other side of the table and focus on her books, finally snapped. "People are trying to study here!"

"Yeah - piss off!" A random boy whom none of them knew piped up from a couple of tables away.

Matthew glanced at the offended students apologetically while Mary's face contorted in displeasure at being put in her place by a boy who was unashamedly wearing crocs in public.

Mary was not content to let the discussion with Matthew end. She needed help! They had a mock exam approaching in ten days and she had about twenty days' worth of work to catch up on (she may have missed a few lectures and tutorials earlier on in term in order to go car shopping, but that was completely justifiable too…). Being behind in her studies normally wouldn't phase her, but her father had put her on a kind of academic probation; Mary had been desperate to break away from the stuffy, country environment she'd grown up in and insisted on attending a university as far away from her family and any of her parents' friends as possible, in search of anonymity and freedom, choosing the sprawling metropolis of London to escape to. Her parents had reluctantly conceded, but Robert had imposed the conditions that she needed to study law and that she must maintain a 1st throughout her degree, otherwise she would be promptly withdrawn from Kings' College London and matriculated straight into Oxford, as was traditional in the Crawley family. Not many people believed Mary or understood the rationale behind her father's terms when she told them this, but her father had friends in high, influential places and he'd most certainly be able to follow up on this threat if he wanted to, in order to uphold the prestige of the family. A 3rd from oxford was more valuable than a 2:1 from anywhere else, he always said.

After being very conscientious in her first year, the fear had subsided and Mary had already slipped up a couple of times in her second year. Robert had decided to let those instances pass with just a warning, but Mary did not want to push her luck. She sensed that a bad result in the impending mock may be the last straw. And with the way things were going, the best she could hope for was a low 2:2.

Rising from her chair, she tugged on Matthew's collar as an unsubtle indication that she wanted him to follow her. With a sigh, Matthew decided not to anger Mary any further. He pushed his chair back quietly and traced her steps to an empty area of the large library.

"You're making me say a word that I thoroughly dislike using, and I hate you for it, but _please_ help me." Mary pleaded.

"I'm honestly not refusing you in order to make you miserable." Matthew assured her. "You'll feel so much more proud of yourself if you put the work in. You'll appreciate the subject so much more, too!"

"You misunderstand the situation, Matthew. I do not care about law in the slightest. I don't want to develop an appreciation for it." Mary deadpanned. "I just want to get good grades so I can stay here and not get shipped off to toff-land."

"You do realise that you are a toff yourself?" Matthew smirked.

"Matthew..." Mary warned.

"Alright, fine." Matthew relented. "I'll help."

Mary's eyes lit up. Success!

"Don't think it'll come easily, though." Matthew burst her bubble before she became too settled in it. "I'll help you, but on one condition."

Mary rolled her eyes dramatically. "Why does everyone insist on giving me conditions?"

"Because you're a stubborn and unreasonable young woman." Matthew replied so seriously that it paradoxically made Mary smile.

"I'm not going to spoon-feed you; you need to attend all lectures for the rest of term and join me in the library every evening for at least four hours. It'll take that much for you to work your way back up to a 1st." Matthew estimated, being in a good position to judge given that he was on a strong 1st himself.

"Matthew, we both know that it'll be easier for the both of us if you just give me your notes and essays rather than have you trying to tutor me." Mary engaged one of her charming smiles, attempting to make this as easy for herself as possible.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at her. "I think you're forgetting that I know Edith and could quite easily let her know of how remiss you've been with your studies this year."

"You wouldn't." Mary's eyes grew wide with alarm. If Edith found out, she would definitely tell their father - she and Mary were more at odds now than ever, especially as Edith had had a crush on Matthew since school and was now jealous of Mary's relationship with him - and he would not be pleased.

"I might." Matthew bluffed. He wouldn't, though - he wasn't that cruel. "But I will withdraw my note-lending and question-answering services if you don't keep to the bargain."

Mary crossed her arms. She hated that he could make her submit to his terms. He was the only man - besides her father - who was able to do it, even while they'd been at school together. She had been one of a handful of girls to join a hitherto boys-only private school during sixth form and the girls had been akin to small fish being dropped into a tank of hungry sharks. Mary's beauty and innate confidence had made her even more sought-after among the hundred boys in her year group. All the boys had been at her heel ready to obey her every order and cater to her every whim; Matthew, on the other hand, had been the only one to question her, to challenge her. Thankfully Matthew and Mary had shared only one class together during sixth form, so she had not had to encounter him more than once or twice a week. She was rather aggrieved in her final year of school, therefore, to discover that 'scholarship boy', as she'd snobbishly dubbed him, would be attending the same university as her, doing the same course, and living just one floor below her throughout first year.

"Four hours every evening?" She clarified that she had correctly understood the onerous condition. Matthew nodded. "Look, Matthew, I know you find this difficult to comprehend, but I have been blessed with a wonderful gift called a _social life_." She spoke as if addressing a thoroughly stupid child. "It requires me to be available in the evenings."

"Mary, it'll be difficult enough for you to get up to standard with four hours of work a night. I can't perform miracles!"

"Well, I simply don't have the time to spare." Mary said resolutely.

"Alright." Matthew shrugged nonchalantly. "Enjoy Oxford!" He called behind him as he turned to leave.

Mary's heart stilled as she saw him pull out his phone and scroll through it, paranoia invading her mind - was he searching for Edith's number?

"Wait!" She called out, hurrying up to him and dragging him back by the arm.

"Yes?" Matthew asked, his expression irritatingly triumphant.

"I'll attend all my lectures and study in the library for two hours a night." She bargained.

"Three." He countered.

The two stubborn nineteen year olds stared at each other, waiting for the other to crack. Mary was determined to retain the upper-hand in this. She never liked the idea of having to concede to others, and she had Matthew had always had a relatively tempestuous, combative relationship.

An idea formed in Mary's head. It was wickedly naughty, but she had faith in its ability to knock Matthew off his perch.

"Two hours." She repeated. "And..." She paused to build the anticipation. "I'll let you spend the night with me."

"What?" Matthew blurted out loudly, earning tuts from the disgruntled students who were trying to study on the other side of the bookshelves.

"If you help me, and I get a 1st in my mock, I'll let you spend the night with me." Mary repeated. It was daring, incredibly so, but Mary knew it would work. As much as Matthew enjoyed antagonising her, she knew he was physically attracted to her. She had noticed him eyeing her up when he thought she couldn't see; gazing at her as she walked away, staring at her curves in her form-fitting dresses, not able to avert his stare quickly enough after she caught him. And the truth was, she had become attracted to him over their time at university so far. He had grown into a gorgeous man and, unless she was mistaken, there was a sexual tension steadily building between them amongst all the arguing. Plus, if she was going to have to study intensely for the next ten days, she may as well inject a bit of fun into it.

"M-mary..." Matthew stammered. Was it hot in here? "B-but..." He cleared his throat, annoyed with himself for letting her affect him so much. For all he knew, this was one of her little pranks, designed purely to rile him up. He took a deep breath. "What are you talking about?" He eventually exclaimed in a loud whisper. She _couldn't_ be serious!

Mary merely raised an eyebrow at him, as if perplexed by his reaction. "Honestly, Matthew, I know you like to play the innocent little boy but you must know what I mean." When Matthew simply looked back at her with his mouth agape, clearly too scared to venture a guess in case he'd wildly misunderstood her, Mary continued. "I mean you and me, in a bed, doing anything we want with each other." She whispered sensually.

Matthew gulped hard, glad that he had chosen to wear his baggy trousers to study in. "W-why would you offer that?" He asked, wanting to be clear of her motives. She hadn't given him any impression that she was particularly interested in him in any way and she knew that he certainly wasn't the sort of young man to have a one-night-stand. He'd only ever properly been with one girl before and fooled around with another but those had both been during relationships.

"Because I know you'll want to." Mary said confidently. Matthew inwardly cursed her for being so justifiably self-assured.

"And I suppose you want to, too? Otherwise you wouldn't suggest it." He countered, trying to match her smugness. The thought did boost his ego; Mary wasn't exactly a shrinking violet, but nor was she the type of girl who would play around with just anyone. Considering the number of willing bed partners she had, she was remarkably restrained.

"Maybe." Mary replied enigmatically, her eyes travelling slowly and deliberately up and down his body, making Matthew feel even warmer. "I don't want to force you, though." She said with faux concern. So I'll leave it up to you to decide. But just think, Matthew - it's only ten days until the exam, then a few more days until we get our results...in exactly two weeks' time, we could be in your bed. Or mine."

Matthew gulped again. Her bed. She was conjuring images in his mind that made it difficult for him to stand up straight. "How do I know you'll keep to your word?" He challenged, managing to think rationally and not get carried away with his rapidly developing fantasies.

"I suppose you won't know until I actually get the grade that I need." Mary replied honestly, suspecting that even the element of uncertainty wouldn't be enough to dissuade him from accepting. "But if you really doubt my word, I can give you a little taster." Mary offered alluringly.

This was all far too steamy for a regular evening in the library, Matthew thought. Part of him was dying to know what Mary had in mind as a 'taster', but he was also very aware of where they were and the need for him to maintain some of his dignity and not succumb to her so completely.

"That won't be necessary." He said calmly, taking delight in the slight look of defeat that he could see in her eyes at his answer. "I trust you."

"Good." Mary quickly recovered from the unexpected feeling of disappointment and replied with a pleased smile. "So we have a deal?"

"We do." Matthew breathed out. "Shall we start tomorrow? I need to make a study plan for you." It was getting late and Matthew didn't think he could handle Mary's presence any longer.

"Perfect." Mary smiled. "Sweet dreams, Matthew." She whispered wryly, intentionally brushing past him as she walked away.

Matthew let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. He needed a cold shower.

…

Over the next week, the library partners made no explicit mention of their deal, deciding instead to focus on the sheer volume of work that needed to be battled through. Matthew, being the gentleman that he was, did not want to bring up or even allude to the notion of them romping together in between her sheets. That did not mean, however, that his innermost thoughts were anywhere near gentlemanly. It also did not stop the furtive glances that he cast her way while she was poring over her notes, reaching up to take a book off the top shelf or absent-mindedly running her feminine fingers through the lustrous hair which settled upon her bosom. Happily, he believed he had caught Mary casting similar glances his way as they studied.

One particular evening, three days before the mock, Matthew and Mary were huddled together in their quiet corner of the library tackling a particularly tricky subject. Matthew had analysed previous years' past papers and calculated that the topic was due to come up this year. Their mandatory two hours had already expired but Mary wanted to do a practice essay to ensure that she had thoroughly understood the relevant case-law. It had made Matthew smile - she maintained that she didn't care about law or pursuing it as a career, but he could see her interest growing as the days passed by.

Matthew took the completed essay from her and read over it as she sat next to him and watched with anticipation. He was no expert in essay-marking but she seemed to want his reassurance that she was on the right track.

"It's really good, Mary." He turned to tell her once he'd finished reviewing.

"Really?" Mary smiled hopefully.

"Yeah, you explain Baroness Hale's argument very well." He smiled back.

"Well, it was you who explained it to me about two hours ago, so I think you should take the credit for that." She pointed out. "But at this rate it looks like I might get my 1st. You might want to start planning how you want to spend our night together." She winked.

Matthew let out a breathy, nervous laugh. Truthfully, he hadn't stopped planning it ever since Mary had first proposed it, irrespective of how foolishly hopeful that made him. The irrational and creative part of his brain had been working in overdrive lately. The rational part of his brain, however, was still not convinced that she actually meant what she promised. It was more than likely that she was just toying with him in order to get what she needed from him. Not knowing how to respond, Matthew spent a few moments shuffling the papers around on his desk and pretending to look for his pen (even though it was quite obviously within full view).

"I have another question, Matthew." Mary said innocently.

"Oh?" Matthew asked, glad that she seemed to be returning to the subject of their textbooks so that he could stop blushing profusely.

"Yes." She said, readjusting herself in her seat as if about to voice a very serious query."Have you ever thought about me while you're...you know...beating your meat?" She asked, her lips quirking upwards mischievously. It was a terribly uncouth question and her grandmother would surely pass out if she ever knew that she'd asked it but, for some reason, she didn't care. Being so far away from home – and, for some reason, being in Matthew's presence – made her much less inhibited than she'd been trained to be.

"Mary!" Matthew admonished, glancing around in panic. Thankfully the whole library, or at least their section of it, had emptied out.

"Oh don't be such a baby." Mary replied. "You need to loosen up a bit! We're young enough to have fun and old enough to admit that we do these things. This time in our lives won't last long, Matthew. Make the most of it."

Matthew pondered her words as he tried to calm his rapid heart-rate. She had a point. If he was ever going to throw caution to the wind and behave a bit recklessly and speak about rude things, this was the time to do it. "Erm..." He began his answer to her question, his eyes avoiding hers. "Yes, I have." He stopped abruptly, deciding not to venture any more information unless asked. He didn't want to embarrass himself further in what was already a fairly uncomfortable conversation for him.

"Care to elaborate?" Mary pried, partly because she enjoyed watching him blush, and partly because she was actually curious. He was always so prim and straight-laced; the idea of him having dirty thoughts about her was unexpectedly thrilling. "What do you think about?"

Matthew physically squirmed in his seat. "Mary, I'm not sure I want to divulge all the details..."

"Well when was the last time you did it?" Mary prompted.

Silence.

"For God's sake, Matthew, just speak! I'm not going to judge you or get angry about it."

"This morning." Matthew said quickly.

"Oh really?" Mary smiled smugly. "And what were you imagining then?"

Matthew glanced at her sideways, unable to stop himself smirking at her devilish little face. "Last night, you were wearing that black tank top and at one point you bent down to pick your pen up from the floor. The front of your top slipped down and I could see your cleavage...I suppose I was thinking about taking your breasts in my hands and perhaps my...mouth." Matthew paused. Having these thoughts in the privacy of his own bathroom was one thing, but now he was reliving them in the university library with the object of his desire seated right next to him.

Mary could feel herself heating up. The words alone were enough to affect her but when they were spoken in that deliciously rich, low voice of his...

"What about you?" Matthew turned the tables on her. "Have you been thinking about me in that way?" He asked boldly, but his heart was thudding against his chest. This was the bravest he'd ever been in his whole life.

Mary met his eyes, and he saw that they were filled with desire. "Yes." She said quietly.

Matthew swallowed. "While you...?" He trailed off.

Mary held his gaze. "Yes." She breathed out.

Matthew swallowed even harder. "And what do you think about?" He asked huskily.

"Your fingers." Mary replied without hesitation. Her eyes twinkled as she watched Matthew imagine what she could have been imagining.

Matthew shifted in his seat and coughed. He had no idea how she wanted him to react to this. He had no idea what the hell was happening here. This whole dialogue felt like some kind of dream involving his alter-ego.

"Are you going to go home and think about me now?" Mary asked cheekily.

Matthew smirked. He knew that part of this line of questioning was a test - she wanted to see how far she could push him. "I probably am, yes." He replied, now more comfortable with the eroticism of the conversation.

"It'll take you about fifteen minutes to walk back home, though, won't it?" Mary asked softly.

"Er...yes, why?" Matthew asked with a small frown at the sudden change in topic, before noticing Mary's slender hands inching their way over to his lap. He sucked in a breath as one hand ran along his upper thigh, up towards his crotch.

"Well that's simply too long a wait." Mary said matter-of-factly. She leaned forward until her cheek brushed against his. "Let me help you." She whispered in his ear and took his ear lobe in her mouth. Matthew barely had time to recover from that sensation before her hand rubbed along his length through his trousers. He let out a strangled groan.

"Shh, Matthew, we're in a library." Mary smirked as she undid his trousers.

"Mary..." Matthew gasped out, realising what she was planning on doing.

"It's alright, you can be quiet." Mary assured him, leaning forward to kiss him deeply, covering his mouth with hers. Matthew responded earnestly to the kiss and the feel of her beautifully soft mouth, but was soon distracted by the feel of her bare, dextrous hands on his now very bare, thick arousal.

For the next several minutes, Matthew was trapped in a wonderful kind of paradox. He wanted to scream, he wanted to shout, he wanted to thrash around - yet he was almost paralysed in his chair, no sound croaked through his open mouth as he gasped for breath. He threw his head back against the back of the chair, his eyes closed. Mary, who had been enjoying watching his undeniably strong reactions to her, leaned to whisper in his ear again.

"Watch me."

Matthew forced his eyes open, and numerous expletives escaped his mouth as he watched Mary's hands fondle and pump him, her perfect face gazing at him with a smile which was equally enigmatic as it was alluring.

Seeing that he was about to expire, Mary took the opportunity to kiss him again. He was a surprisingly good kisser. She had presumed – with a face as angelic as his – that he would be helpless and clumsy in this sort of situation, but she was pleasantly startled to find that he could give as good as he got when it came to kissing.

And so Mary swallowed his cries as he broke apart at her own hands. Much to her annoyance, the late-night librarian wandered to their corner of the library about twenty seconds later and peered curiously over at their table.

"Everything alright over here?" The 67 year old man with unnaturally bushy eyebrows asked.

"Yes, fine, thanks." Mary replied curtly, taking it upon herself to reply while Matthew tried to regain normal levels of breathing and pulse-rate. She had been wildly aroused by what had just taken place, but the sight of the overweight, unkempt librarian rather stifled her appetite. "We're trying to study but there seems to be some disturbance outside." She lied, hoping the old man with the typically unreliable hearing would believe that the sounds came from outside and leave them alone.

"Oh, I see." The man said, glancing out of the window confusedly. He smiled apologetically at the two of them as he hobbled away. But not before nodding casually at Matthew. "Y'alright, Matthew? You look a bit flustered." He said, looking over the top of his large glasses to assess the younger man.

Matthew could do nothing but nod vigorously, not trusting himself to speak in case some of his stifled curse words and moans from a few minutes ago rushed out of his mouth.

Appeased, the man continued to limp away and back down the stairs to the main desk.

…

_A/N: pretty steamy, I know. I'd just like to point out that I most certainly did not engage in any behaviour of this sort while I was at university! And I am usually a bit old-fashioned when it comes to this sort of thing but for some reason when it comes to fanfic the smutty side of me comes out! Anyway, let me know your thoughts. And I promise an update to Unwanted Rings in the next week or so! xxx_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: thanks so much for the wonderful reception to the first chapter! I was quite worried that everyone would just think it would be lewd and a bit pointless, but I thought it could be quite fun so I'm very happy that everyone has been so encouraging!_

_Now, in the spirit of the light-heartedness of this story, I have taken a bit of creative licence here and there…they are second year students at King's College, London, but I am going to have them still living in halls together. The seriousness of the mock exam is also a bit unrealistic. But I hope you can overlook those points! Xxx_

…

"Matthew, I don't know anything!" Mary's frustrated voice sounded down the phone, its volume making Matthew jump. It wasn't that she was speaking loudly in an objective sense but to Matthew, who had been peacefully sleeping in his room, it was a rude awakening.

"I'm sure that's not true." He replied gruffly, wiping his tired eyes. "In fact, I know that's not true. I tested you a few hours ago and you were great."

"You didn't test me on the law of persons, though, and it transpires that I remember nothing about it." Mary let out a petulant sigh.

Matthew similarly let out a sigh, although his was one of resignation. Clearly this wasn't going to be a conversation which he could conclude swiftly, he thought as he sat up in bed.

It was the night before their mock. Matthew chose to spend the majority of the evening in his room, quietly preparing his numerous pens (and back-up pens) and multi-coloured tabs in anticipation of the exam in the morning, before settling down to bed early to ensure a proper night's rest. Mary, meanwhile, was frantically trying to cram as much information into her mind as she possibly could while loading herself up with coffee.

"Mary, stop panicking-"

"I'm not panicking!" Mary said defensively, the excessive amounts of caffeine in her body lending her voice a slightly crazed edge.

"Alright, well..." Matthew rubbed his forehead wearily. "Then stop doing whatever it is that you're doing and go to sleep. The information is all in there, but you're tired now so it's becoming more and more difficult to recall - you're being counter-productive by testing yourself so much." He explained patiently.

"God, I hate studying." Mary huffed, placing a hand on her hip as she observed her desk, the surface of which was drowning amidst various books, piles of revision cards and errant sheets of paper.

"Maybe if you hadn't slacked off so much for an entire term..." Matthew hinted.

"Don't get smart with me now." Mary warned.

"Well what do you want me to do, Mary? I've helped you as much as I can. You just need to trust me." Matthew snapped back. He was growing irritable at having been woken up so abruptly and needlessly.

Mary softened slightly at this. He _had_ been incredibly helpful to her over the last 10 days. She was sure that nobody else would have shown her such commitment and perseverance. But the fact was that she needed her 1st and the realisation that the exam was a mere 9 hours away had launched her into stress-mode. "Could you come over for a few minutes?" She asked as sweetly as she could.

"Mary..." Matthew whined.

"It will make me feel better if I can just run through a few things with you." Mary explained. "It won't take long." She added quickly.

"It had better not." Matthew replied bitterly. A quick assessment of the options told him that it would probably be wiser to just go to see her, listen to her rattle off some cases for a few minutes and then return to his room to sleep, than it would for him to argue with her on the phone and become more wound up by her. "I'll be there in 2 minutes." He muttered, roughly pushing aside the duvet as he got out of bed.

"Thank you!" Mary's smug voice called just before he hung up.

…

"...and that's probably the direction the ECJ will head towards in future." Mary finished her monologue proudly, breathing a sigh of relief at having remembered her notes so thoroughly. She looked to Matthew for approval.

But Matthew was rather distracted, and had been so from the moment she'd opened the door to him. It appeared that Mary's private revision-wear of choice was a short cotton skirt with a flimsy t-shirt which slid off her shoulders. Consequently, he had been rather preoccupied with the sight of her bare legs as she paced around the room and her general 'unkempt' appearance (which she still managed to make look unbelievably sexy).

"Matthew?" Mary prompted, presuming he was drifting off because he was tired.

"Hmm?" Matthew responded. "Oh, yes - that's perfect. See, Mary, you don't need to worry." He smiled encouragingly. He began to stand up from his seat with a view to leaving, but she started talking again and he sat back down with a look of despair.

"Wait - I still need to go through the application of European legislation. Test me?" She asked, although, as usual, her questions were demands in disguise.

Matthew raised his eyebrows at her.

"Just ask me three questions." Mary bargained.

"Fine." Matthew conceded. "What are the main cases relating to horizontal direct effect?"

Mary froze. "I know this…" She tried to convince herself as much as Matthew. But she couldn't remember. "I think one of them begins with an 'E'…" She had glanced at her note-cards on this literally half an hour ago and she couldn't remember! "Oh god, I'm going to fail." She said seriously, holding her hands to her head.

"There's no need to be melodramatic." Matthew tutted. This 'quick' re-cap was taking an awful lot longer than he had anticipated.

"I'm not being melodramatic!" Mary glared at him. "My dad will drag me away from here and I'll be forced into some stuffy, gossip-y oxford college full of the people I've spent my whole life trying to escape!" She paced around the room increasingly quickly, flailing her arms as she spoke.

"Mary, just calm down." Matthew stood up and made slow gestures with his hands in a futile attempt to quieten her nerves.

"I can't!" Mary cried, glaring at him and his calmness. "How can I?"

"Listen to soothing music?" Matthew offered. He realised her question was rhetorical but thought he'd try anyway. "What do you usually do to calm down?"

Mary was looking to the floor forlornly when her expression suddenly lightened. She looked much more optimistic. "Kiss me." She ordered.

"What?" Matthew blurted out.

"That's what calms me down." Mary said simply.

"Kissing is what calms you down?" Matthew reiterated, certain that he must have misheard her.

"Yeah." Mary shrugged. "I don't get this stressed very easily, you know, so it's not like I'm kissing random men several times a day." She clarified, not wanting Matthew to think she was overly promiscuous.

Matthew raised an eyebrow at her suspiciously. "Was this part of your plan?" He asked, wondering if she'd concocted this whole 'last-minute panic' scenario just to have an opportunity to fool around with him.

"Of course not!" Mary's eyes grew wide with horror at the notion that he would think that. "But it's the only thing I know will calm me down." She said.

Matthew eyed her silently for a few moments. Shortly after their little 'tryst' in the library, Mary had announced that she would be heading home. While he was glad of it – it allowed him to recover without having her look at his sweaty, hyperventilating self with bemusement and/or pity – he was slightly bewildered by how matter-of-fact she was about what they'd done (or rather, what _she'd_ done to _him_). She hadn't mentioned it at all the next day, or the day after that. There had been, however, more frequent flirty and knowing glances directed towards him since that night. Determined to retain some pride and not fall at her feet, Matthew had steadfastly refused to bring up the topic and had instead focused on revision. But now, being alone with her in her room while she was asking him to kiss her…God, he wanted to kiss her. From the little he could remember of their kisses in the library (the blood in his brain had been re-routed elsewhere), he knew that he had enjoyed it. Besides, if he was going to be dragged out of bed against his will, he might as well gain something from it…

…

"Matthew..." Mary protested feebly.

"No, no - you're still stressed." Matthew told her, his words unclear as his mouth was still on her neck.

"Mmm... " Mary hummed with pleasure, more than happy to let him continue. Very stressed.

It was several minutes later and their kiss, which had started out with Matthew tentatively capturing Mary's lips in his, had escalated somewhat.

Matthew was overwhelmed. He had always been - and, in his mind, still remained - a relatively shy, quite socially awkward person. He had his own small circle of friends with whom he felt comfortable, and of course he had his mother and a couple of other family members, but otherwise his main comfort-zone consisted of studying and taking part in extra-curricular activities (most of which were law-related, such as mooting). It didn't make sense that there would be any kind of spark between him and Mary Crawley, nor that he would even be able to hold a conversation with her. But now, as he bit at the skin at the base of her neck and felt her fingers rake over his back through his old T-shirt, he marvelled at how fearless and alive he felt with her. The reserved goody-goody, whose persona he had inhabited for so long and been afraid to depart from, was nowhere to be seen.

Mary whimpered with need as he met her mouth again, and his fingers tightened around her waist in response. He bunched the material of her T-shirt in his fists, moving it up and exposing her torso.

"Matthew," Mary panted, breaking away from his lips. "Do something. For god's sake..." She pleaded. She didn't know what exactly she was expecting, but a squeal of surprise and delight escaped her lips as he promptly hoisted her up onto her dresser and stood in between her legs. Her dresser was tall, meaning she was now slightly higher up than him, giving them a new angle at which to enjoy their deep kisses.

Mary daringly rubbed her legs against Matthew's side and hips, stopping just short of wrapping them around him completely. The emphatic groan she received from him made her chuckle lightly into their kiss.

She was teasing him, Matthew thought. He was succumbing to her little jokes and unknowingly falling into the traps she set up for him. Well, two could play at this game.

He ran his large, warm hand along the length of her bare thigh, feeling satisfied when he felt Mary gasp. His fingers began toying with the waistband of her lacy underwear, his thumb tantalisingly stroking the ridge where her thigh met her hip.

Mary was almost beside herself. He was making her feel things that he wasn't allowed to make her feel! She was supposed to be in charge, here. This situation needed to be put right before it became any more topsy-turvy. Slowly, she removed one hand from his hair and cascaded it down his neck, chest and stomach until she reached the elastic waistband of his jogging bottoms. She began fumbling with the string which had been knotted at the front, only for her actions to be halted by Matthew's own hand. When she tried to lean back to ask him why he was stopping her, he only deepened the kiss, probing his tongue further into her mouth and making her forget all about what she wanted to ask him.

Matthew smirked inwardly. He wasn't going to let her win this one. She had seen him at his most vulnerable, she had done things to him that nobody else ever had (not quite to that Earth-shattering extent, at least). And yet, the most intimate part of her that he'd seen was her handwriting.

Moving her underwear to one side with his index finger, Matthew promptly squatted down in front of her and began searching her with his lips and tongue. Mary emitted a series of shocked, whimpery and slightly strangled sounds, torn between pushing her hips closer to his head and trying to back away from him because the intensity of pleasure was almost too much to handle. He was just so..._enthusiastic_.

Matthew had very little idea what he was doing - he'd only done this once or twice before and it had been a bit sloppy and awkward - but he was enjoying himself very much indeed. A surprised sort of pride was what he was feeling; he was being really quite daring with what he was doing to her, and her gasps and the fact that her eyes kept snapping open after blissfully closing – as if to check that he really was doing what it felt like he was doing - told him that she was taken aback by his behaviour too. It would be easy for him to feel submissive, crouched down like this in front of her dresser with all his focus being on pleasuring her, but instead he felt utterly supreme. He felt at once like a freed slave experiencing life for the first time and a man who had just been crowned king of the world.

His head was determinedly burying ever deeper against her, and Mary found herself completely backed up against the wall. Vaguely aware of clattering and the sounds of glass cracking as she did so, Mary flung her hands out to the sides, desperately trying to grab onto the dresser to steady herself. Foreign noises were escaping her mouth – whimpers, strained sighs and quick gasps. Her arousal and pleasure were being vocalised in ways which she would not want them to be, had she any control over them. But that was the point – for the first time, she felt completely powerless, a victim to the sensations that Matthew was evoking in her.

Within a very short time, she reached her peak, just as Matthew had in the library days earlier. He didn't back away from her or stop his actions but instead insisted on prolonging her release for as long as he could. When he finally removed his head from between her legs, he placed kisses on the flesh of her upper thighs, readjusting her underwear and skirt so that she was properly covered before he stood up. Mary was only very faintly aware of him standing before her, looking at her, his lips glistening; she felt like it would take a while for her brain to refocus and for the bones to re-grow in her jelly-like limbs.

The two students stood looking at each other for a few moments; Mary letting her breathing and heart-rate return to normal, and Matthew…well, the same. He hadn't realised that he could derive so much gratification from giving someone else physical pleasure. His stance had changed – he stood taller and more confident than he had done just fifteen minutes earlier.

"Well," Mary cleared her throat, "that was quite effective, I must say." She said matter-of-factly. The truth was, however, that she didn't actually remember what Matthew's exertions had been in aid of. She couldn't remember anything about the exam, or revision, or feeling stressed. Later, she would realise that showed precisely how effective Matthew had been in de-stressing her. But for now, knowing how much she had let loose over the past quarter-hour, she wanted to appear as collected as she possibly could.

"I'm glad." Matthew replied, equally intent on portraying a casual demeanour, despite the hot blood still coursing through his veins. Mary's flushed appearance was betraying her calmness, and he hoped that he looked less untidy than she did. Not that he minded her untidiness, of course. In fact, he was positively proud of it.

…

A succession of loud knocks on Mary's door rudely woke her up.

"What?" She lifted her head just enough to bark in the direction of the door.

"It's me – we're going to be late!" Anna's slightly muffled voice sounded back.

Searching for her phone in alarm, Mary relaxed upon seeing that Anna had a very different definition of 'late' to her own. "Come in," Mary beckoned her, not wanting to have a conversation through the door. "You do know that the exam isn't for another hour?" Mary asked rhetorically as Anna entered. "Just because you automatically awake at the crack of dawn, doesn't mean that waking up at 8am is 'late'."

"Yes, but it'll take us fifteen minutes to get to the exam hall and we need to find our seats and everything!" Anna pointed out. "And you would've carried on sleeping if I hadn't come over here!"

"I was up late revising." Mary offered this as an explanation for her being in such a deep sleep, intentionally omitting the _other_ reason for feeling so drained.

"So was I. That reminds me, I bumped into Matthew quite late last night, as he was leaving your room." Anna said, carefully watching Mary's reaction. It wasn't like Mary to have boys in her room so late at night – not boys like Matthew, anyway.

"I've already told you – he's been helping me prepare for the mock." Mary replied with feigned impatience, as if Anna was being tedious for bringing him up. "He's one of the best in our year group." She added as justification for choosing him to tutor her. She wanted to dispel any ideas that anything other than revision tips was passing between her and Matthew.

"Alright…" Anna said sceptically. Her attention was suddenly caught by the sight of something glinting at the side of the room. It was shards of broken glass, with spilt perfume around it. Glancing around, she saw numerous bottles of perfumes and moisturisers scattered on Mary's floor, and the surface of her large dresser was almost clear. Turning back to Mary, she raised an eyebrow.

"I got quite frustrated last night, as I was revising." Mary said simply.

"So you charged at your desk in a rage and swept everything off it and onto the floor?" Anna asked disbelievingly.

"The exam is giving me enough to worry about without having to answer all of _your_ questions too." Mary said drolly, moving her duvet and gracefully sliding out of the bed. "I'll be ready in ten minutes. Go back to your room and I'll pick you up on my way out." She told Anna, subtly guiding her back towards the bedroom door so that she would leave.

…

"Come in silently, please." The head invigilator directed the students as they filed into the exam hall. "Find your seat and don't speak to any other students."

Mary and Anna entered the hall together. Anna found her seat quite quickly – the seating was alphabetical so Anna was near the back of the room, where they'd entered from. Mary made her way up the front rows. Many of the students were still settling down, but several of the keener ones were already in their seats with their various exam utensils neatly arranged – in the most efficiently accessible way, of course - on their small desks.

Amongst these keener students was Matthew. Aware that her seat would be directly in front of his, Mary looked out for his head of thick blonde hair and used that as a beacon to guide her to her desk. As she was approaching him from behind, it was easy to avoid meeting his gaze, and she slid into the chair, her back to him.

Now that she was seated, she suddenly felt much more nervous than she had done all morning. Whether that was because she was faced with the reality of the exam, or because of the young man sat behind her, she didn't know. She was thankful that their positions weren't reversed, with him in front of her during the entire exam, as it would surely be a great distraction to her. After a few minutes, the shuffling of chairs and pencil-cases and creaking of old desks had died down and a pronounced hush descended upon the room. Mary's fate at the university was about to be decided. The invigilators began distributing the question papers to the candidates.

Chancing it, Mary slowly turned her head to look at Matthew once the invigilators had passed their row.

"Good luck," Matthew mouthed to her with a smile, his eyes bright blue and reassuring.

"Thank you," Mary mouthed back, just as the head invigilator took his place at the front of the room to declare that the exam had begun.

…

_A/N: thanks for reading! If I'm honest, I had intended this to be just three chapters of smut but I can feel that it might develop beyond that slightly! Let me know your thoughts xxx_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: hello! Sorry for the delayed response, but I have been so happy with the wonderful responses that I've been getting! I'm really excited about this story – I love revisiting the world of university, especially with these two characters. I think future chapters will focus more on a legitimate romance between the two, rather than pure lust, but fear not – this chapter is pretty smutty!_

_Also, by way of a quick UR update – I'm so sorry it's taking so long for me to update, but rest assured that I am actually working on the next chapter! I'm trying out a slightly new structure and I'm hoping it will be quite a long chapter, so please bear with me! Xxx_

…

He was ignoring her. It had been thirty minutes since she'd arrived and he hadn't so much as made eye contact. The bar was crowded, she supposed, but he definitely would've known that she was there, given that he had bumped into Anna when he was ordering a drink and she would've mentioned that she had come with Mary. It's not that she expected him to drop everything he was doing just to greet her; however, being Mr Politeness himself, he always at least acknowledged her presence with a courteous wave or nod across the room. So he was ignoring her, but more than that, and more bizarrely, he seemed to be attempting to ingratiate himself with some of her friends.

The exam hadn't gone as badly as Mary had been expecting it to, but it was always difficult to tell with these things. She was just glad that it was over and done with and as she walked out of the exam hall she resolved to put it out of her mind until they received their results in a few days' time. Thoughts of the exam itself had successfully vanished from her mind - unfortunately, though, thoughts of her grade (and what it might lead to) would not leave her in peace.

That afternoon, one of the more sociable members of their year group had swiftly set up a Facebook event declaring that it was absolutely necessary for them all to unwind that evening in a local student bar. Mary usually stayed away from these gatherings, seeing them as juvenile and unsophisticated, but she hadn't been able to speak to Matthew after the exam; Tom Branson (who sat two seats in front of Mary) had hurried over to him and the two had made a speedy exit. An evening in a slightly grotty bar, then, didn't seem so bad if it meant that she could see him. And all of her other class-mates, of course.

Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in her tall cocktail, Mary observed Matthew from a distance. He was still speaking to some people whom she knew fairly well – well enough to be quite sure that they had no clue who he was. As immature as it sounded, they were rather more 'cool' than he was and it was apparent that he was out of place. She watched as he tried to participate in their undoubtedly uncouth conversation, getting cut off mid-sentence by the more boisterous of the group and awkwardly taking sips from his almost empty glass just for want of something to do. It would normally be the kind of sight to make Mary laugh unkindly, or cringe, but instead she found it very endearing. And not in a platonic, 'little brother' way, either.

There was something about his earnestness, his pureness, his unashamedly delighted smile when one of his lame jokes went down surprisingly well with his socially superior audience, that made her want him very much. It irritated and confused her to feel this way. All the things that she didn't like about him on paper, coupled with the fact that he was ignoring her, were the very things that were turning her on and making her crave his attention. His qualities contradicted everything that she had historically found attractive or thought that she needed but, for some reason, all she could think of right now was dragging him to her bed, tearing his clothes off and doing terribly dirty things to him.

"Mary?"

A voice sounded from somewhere to her left. Anna was looking at her curiously. She had unknowingly been fidgeting in her seat as vivid images of Matthew lying beneath her and groaning loudly flitted through her mind.

"Yes?" Mary cleared her throat and took a sip of her drink.

"Where is your head?" Anna chuckled. "You've been preoccupied ever since we got here. I hope you're not still worrying about the exam." She frowned with concern.

"Oh, well, yes, but I'm trying to put it out of my head." Mary lied with a small smile. She noticed that Tom and William had come over to join them. Perhaps Matthew would follow? She certainly hoped so, otherwise her expensive, pout-enhancing lipgloss would go to waste...besides, he couldn't possibly be planning on spending the entire evening with a group of people he hardly knew, could he? What was he playing at, exactly? Her frustration grew, both at his mysterious behaviour and at the fact that she cared so much about it. Apparently their recent trysts had had more of an effect on her than she'd anticipated…

Aiming to block him out of her line of sight, she turned to fully face the others at her table. She only knew William and Tom through Anna and Matthew respectively, but they were nice enough boys; she preferred William, though, as Tom was prone to getting on his high-horse and ranting about social inequality, which she couldn't help but take as a personal affront. Nevertheless, she was quite content to engage in conversation with them about their plans for the upcoming Christmas holidays in order to take her mind off their mutual, blue-eyed friend.

People continued to trickle into the small bar and it was growing humid and steadily noisier. Just as Mary began to assess whether it would be best to leave before it became even more uncomfortable, she heard the scrape of a chair on the hard floor to her right. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a hand place a fresh drink on the table.

"Having a good night?" Matthew's voice said. Ignoring the flutter in her stomach, she turned to him – his eyes were bright and dimples appeared in his cheeks as he smiled. He was utterly adorable. And she wanted to devour him.

"I suppose so. You?" She said, unable to think of a witty reply. The memory of that handsome face in between her legs just last night was flooding her mind and making her heart pound against her chest.

Matthew nodded as he took a swig of his drink. "It's nice to spend an evening outside of the library for a change. How did you find the exam?" He asked her. Mary was sure she could detect a particular interest in his tone, as if he wanted to gauge the likelihood of her getting a 1st…

"What's that, Matthew? You're talking about the exam?!" Tom interjected from the other side of the table.

Matthew rolled his eyes with a smirk. "I don't mind talking about it with _Mary_, it's just other people I wanted to avoid."

"Why did you want to avoid people?" Anna asked.

"I'm not a fan of the 'post-match analysis' of exams immediately afterwards." Matthew replied. "People discussing what they wrote down, comparing answers and all of that – so I tend to run out of exams as soon as we're allowed to leave." He smiled.

The group continued to discuss their pet peeves when it came to other students and studying in general, although Mary was perturbed that her conversation with Matthew had been cut short. She had finished her drink and had suspected that Matthew was about to offer to get her another one, which would give her an opportunity to accompany him to the bar to talk one-to-one, but another interruption appeared before Matthew could speak. And it was possibly the least welcome interruption that she could have contemplated.

"Matthew!" The girlish voice of Louisa Alessi exclaimed. Her mousy brown hair was in a loose bun, her olive skin glowed and she had certainly dressed up for the occasion. She looked very attractive, but this made Mary abhor her even more. She was one of those girls who seemed to have an innate dislike of other girls, especially those whom she viewed as an inexplicable 'threat' of some sort. All of her efforts to be polite were centred around boys – more specifically, her efforts were focussed on attracting them and leading them on. Mary obviously also garnered a lot of attention from the young men around her, but she always made a point to carry herself with dignity and poise – qualities that she felt Louisa was seriously lacking. Recently, Louisa seemed to have taken a shine to Matthew and had started sitting near him in lectures, giggling at even the feeblest of his jokes and opportunistically touching his arm. "Why don't you come and join us?" Louisa continued, gesturing to a table on the other side of the room with a couple of other male students sitting at it. "You don't have to sit here." She added with a pointed glance at Mary and Anna, and Mary knew that she was suggesting that heir company was below par. Mary had once caught Louisa laughing at her background behind her back, disparaging her as nothing but an out-of-touch socialite and clearly insinuating that Louisa was more intelligent and worthy of popularity.

"Oh…" Matthew faltered, clearly not wishing to come across rudely. "I'm actually alright here for the moment, thanks, but I'll join you later." He smiled at Louisa and she rubbed his arm in flirtatious acknowledgement, making him blush slightly. Annoyingly for Mary, Matthew was too good-hearted and too willing to see the good in people to realise that Louisa was a complete cow (in Mary's eyes, at least).

"She fancies you." William stated simply once Louisa had left. He was gazing after her retreating figure longingly, obviously put out that she hadn't tried to entice him to join her too.

"I don't think so." Matthew shrugged modestly, doing nothing to tame the jealous beast rising within Mary. She took a moment to wonder just how many other girls had a crush on Matthew. She had never thought of him as being an object of desire, seeing as she had always labelled him as a bog-standard nerd, but he had developed into quite a beautiful specimen of a man over the last year, retaining his lovable awkwardness and trustworthiness which would easily attract the affections of the modern young woman. He was always well-groomed too, and that wasn't something that could be said for the majority of male university students, with their permanent hangovers, slovenly clothes and apparent distaste for regular showers.

Mary glanced around as she mused; the bar was now positively packed with people. Anna, William and Tom were keenly chatting to another friend of theirs who was standing next to their table.

"So how did you find the exam?" Matthew asked her again, nonchalantly.

"It was alright, I think." Mary answered carefully, watching his reaction. A few people were pulling chairs up to the table next to theirs, so Matthew had to shuffle closer to Mary in order to make room. Their arms were brushing against each other. When Matthew looked up again, his face was inches from hers and her breath caught in her throat, where her heart also seemed to be residing. "We'll have to wait and see, I suppose." She said, trying to control her voice to ensure that she sounded typically collected.

"Do you think you might have got a 1st?" He murmured, his voice rich and low amongst the ugly noise of the bar.

"I hope so." Mary replied, surprised by the huskiness of her own voice. They were looking straight into each others eyes intently, unblinkingly. "For more than one reason." She practically whispered this, but she could tell that Matthew had heard it and immediately knew what she meant by it. His eyes widened slightly and he swallowed hard.

…

The loud thud of the door slamming shut barely registered in Mary's or Matthew's brains. Their mouths were hungrily consuming the other's, their tongues duelling, lips sucking and heads angling in order to seek further depth to the kiss. Mary's clawed hand grasped desperately at the shoulder of Matthew's shirt, attempting in vain to remove it. It felt like they couldn't undress quickly enough. Matthew held her body close against his and they tumbled onto his bed. He hooked a hand under each of her thighs and pushed them apart so that he could settle himself between them. Mary groaned at the feel of him there. His hands skilfully slid underneath her dress and removed her undergarments – exactly how, she wasn't sure, but she didn't care about that now. They broke apart just long enough to regain their breath and finish divesting themselves of their troublesome clothes, which now suddenly seemed to have unreasonable amounts of fastenings on them. Mary took the opportunity to unbuckle Matthew's belt and undo his trousers while he removed his shirt, practically giddy with anticipation. Once her dress was off, he pushed her back down onto the bed with his body, ravishing her neck and chest with his mouth.

Mary had wondered whether his tentative and cautious personality would translate into the bedroom, but he was being anything but careful with her and it was driving her wild. She used her feet to shimmy his trousers and boxers down his legs, helping him kick them off the bed.

"Mary," Matthew breathed out against the skin of her breast. "I don't have-" He trailed off, indicating that his brain was not so clouded that he had forgotten to consider the necessary precautions.

"It's alright." Mary assured him. She had been taking the contraceptive pill for a few months now – her skin had started to take a turn for the worse and no face scrub or creams could assist her, so her doctor had recommended trying the pill. She was incredibly thankful for that now; the idea of pausing what they were doing in order to re-dress and go in search of protection did not bear thinking about.

"OK." Matthew replied, and Mary was overcome that he trusted her so freely.

In an effort to try to roll them over she hooked her leg around his hip – she'd had this scene planned out in her head, after all – but Matthew took advantage of their position to plunge into her. They both cried out at the sensation and it was a few moments before Matthew moved again. Mary's head collided against the hard headboard with each thrust, but she barely felt it. All of her focus was on the incredible feelings that Matthew's movements were evoking within her. She wrapped herself around him as completely as she could, her fingers raking down his back, and tried to use her words (and when that became too difficult, her groans) to encourage him to keep going.

It wasn't long before the sensations transcended pleasure and entered delirium, and she was sure that he was experiencing the same thing. Their movements grew increasingly jerky and instinctive, almost without any thought behind them. Matthew's panting had become strained and she could feel his body slick with sweat sliding against hers. Mary willed him to keep going; the promise of release was too great for it not to be realised. The wait was soon over – with a few final frenetic thrusts Matthew sent Mary over the edge, and he went with her, in a blur of sharp sighs and prolonged moans and delicious spasms.

She sank down into the bed, with Matthew slumped on top of her, both breathing heavily. It had been the most erotic experience of her life, even managing to surpass the incidents in the library and on her dresser. Matthew had most certainly exceeded expectations, she thought with a wry inward smile. But she wasn't ready for it to end yet.

"So, what else did you have planned?" Mary asked lowly, once they had both somewhat recovered and she heard Matthew's breathing return to a normal pace.

Matthew raised his head to look up at her, his eyes adorably surprised and hopeful in equal measure, as if he was being granted an extra wish when he thought he'd run out. Mary merely raised her eyebrow at him and smiled alluringly, her smile turning into a grin as she noticed the renewed hunger in Matthew's eyes. She opened her mouth for him as he kissed her deeply.

…

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed - please let me know what you think! I get a bit embarrassed/ensure about my smut-writing…hopefully will have an update before too long! Thanks so much for reading xxx_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: hello my lovelies! I'm so pleased with the excitement around this fic, because I'm growing very fond of it! I am planning out the next two or three chapters so hopefully updates shouldn't take tooooo long, although please bear in mind that I am writing these fics around quite a demanding job in the City and I always want to write the best chapters that I can, so it takes a bit of time sometimes (I received a small complaint about UR dragging out for too long, which I can sort of understand, but that is a particularly difficult fic to write!). But I really appreciate people taking the time to read and leave reviews/messages! Xxx_

…

Lifting a finger to his nose, Matthew tried to stifle the sneeze that was threatening to erupt. Mary was still asleep, and he didn't want to wake her. More than that, though – _he_ wasn't ready to be awake yet, needing some more time to recuperate after their marathon session. He couldn't remember ever feeling more exhausted; even being made to do cross-country as a chubby twelve year-old hadn't been this tiring. Then again, he shouldn't complain. Running around the school field three times was nowhere near as enjoyable as four rounds in bed with Mary Crawley. He smirked to himself, still unable to believe all the things they'd done last night. If she hadn't been in his bed with him, he would have presumed that the whole thing had been an animated dream.

The blankets were raised only up to her waist, giving him a view of her upper body and the way her muscles undulated under her smooth and inviting skin as she slowly stirred and stretched in her slumber. Tentatively, he reached over and very gently ran his index finger along the slight groove down the middle of her torso. She let out a breathy laugh and squirmed in her sleep. He smiled – she was ticklish.

Before he could decide how to tease her next, a sharp shrill tone vibrated through the air. His phone was ringing. Matthew clumsily flung an arm out towards his bedside table, only to find nothing there – he then remembered that he hadn't exactly followed his normal routine before retiring to bed last night, so his phone must still be in his trouser pocket. Fumbling around the pile of clothes on the floor, Matthew eventually found the source of the offending racket and, instead of rejecting the call and turning his phone off, instinctively answered without even checking who it was.

If Matthew Crawley learned anything that morning, it was that the sound of Tom Branson's drunk and chirpy voice echoing down the phone was enough to push any sexy thoughts out of his head.

"Matth-er-ewwww," Tom sang merrily. "How'z it going, brudda?"

"What?" Matthew whispered so as not to disturb Mary, although how she was still asleep after the piercing ringtone and his thrashing around to find his phone, he had no idea. "I don't understand you." He said, not bothering to conceal the fact that he was perturbed, even though Tom couldn't have known what he was interrupting.

"Why you being so quiet, Matty-boy?" Tom seemed to think that shouting down the phone would cure the lack of volume in Matthew's voice. "I don't think I've called you 'Matty-boy' before." Tom pondered out loud. Matthew sighed and closed his eyes resignedly. He'd had phonecalls like this before. "I quite like it." Tom continued. "Matty-boy. Matty-Matthiason. Matty-Matty-boom-boom-"

"Will you shut up?" Matthew blurted out impatiently. "What do you want? Why are you still drunk? It's almost 10am!" He practically hissed.

"Is it?" Tom sounded surprised. "We're only just on our way home. William and I – I mean, me and William – no wait,"

"I know what you mean." Matthew nudged Tom further along the conversation. "Look, this really isn't a good time-" Matthew began.

"No, wait! I have a great story for you!" Tom insisted.

"Fine." Matthew sighed, planning ways to throttle Tom if it transpired that this phonecall was in fact completely pointless.

"Yeah, so, we went out with a few of the boys, and then a few of those boys met a few girls…_very pretty girls…_and we had a bloody good time!" Tom said triumphantly.

But Matthew's attention was diverted elsewhere; Mary had turned to face him, still bleary-eyed. He had woken her up in a rather rude manner and he felt terrible. Far from glaring at him and kicking him out of bed as he expected, however, Mary moved a few inches across the small bed and slid herself up onto Matthew, a thoroughly mischievous smile gracing her face. The feel of her wonderfully soft breasts on his bare chest clouded Matthew's mind and he was suddenly short of breath.

"Matty, I'm telling you, these girls were flippin' awesome." Tom persisted, unaware that he had totally lost his audience. "They don't go to university, but they're not thick or anything - they're just so…_carefree_! D'you know what I mean?"

Matthew was only vaguely aware of the excited Irish voice in his ear, given that his throat was currently being sampled by Mary's tongue. His free hand clutched her back as she slowly kissed and sucked her way up his neck, her body rubbing against his as she moved. Matthew let out a low whine, but his best friend was oblivious to such subtleties.

"Matthew? Are ya there?" He boomed, wanting an immediate response to his dazzling tale. "Look, I know you don't like talking about girls much, but you really need to meet these ones! You'll love them. I _promise_ you-"

"Hang up the phone." Mary whispered in Matthew's other ear, before nibbling on his ear-lobe.

"Listen, I need to go." Matthew managed to say, his lungs constricting further as he felt Mary's hand slip down his torso, towards his hip.

"Ah, Matthias, you're always so shy and reluctant when it comes to the fairer sex." Tom said fondly, as if speaking of an introvert little brother, clearly oblivious as to Matthew's current provocative position. "But you're not a little boy anymore. You're all grown now."

"Mmm, you certainly are." Mary cooed, in reference to the hardness she could feel against her thigh. Tom was apparently speaking so loudly that Mary could hear every word.

"Embrace your manhood!" Tom continued inspirationally.

"I'm sure I can help with that." Mary murmured, her tone dripping with mischief. Teasingly, she slowly walked her fingers downwards along Matthew's hip, building the anticipation.

"I need to go." Matthew rasped, quickly hanging up. Mary emitted a victorious little chuckle. "Sorry about that." Matthew said. "I didn't mean to wake-"

"Shh..." Mary hushed, easing his lips into hers and sucking gently. The sweetness of her kiss was in contrast to what her hands were doing, however.

Matthew let out a tortured moan at her ministrations, barely hearing his phone tumble to the floor with a loud thud.

...

Matthew was sat up in his bed, unable to wipe the wide grin off his face. The squeak of a closing tap informed him that Mary had finished showering (Matthew was one of the lucky students who'd been able to secure an ensuite; Mary, of course, was another one of those students). He awaited her reappearance like an eager puppy.

Mary emerged from the bathroom, with Matthew's spare towel wrapped around her like a mini-dress. She met Matthew's eyes and laughed.

"What?" He asked.

"You have a stupid grin on your face and your hair looks ridiculous." She smiled amusedly, walking over to the bed and perching herself on the edge, next to him.

"Well, I think you only have yourself to blame for both those things." Matthew replied wryly, enjoying the feel of her fingers running over his scalp and through his hair as she attempted to tame the mess.

"There. That's better." She said, pleased with herself as she sat back and appraised his neater hair. "I think you need to start investing in some hair gel." She advised, moving to stand up. Her movements were halted, however, by Matthew's hand grasping her arm and pulling her back down.

"Stay." He urged, daringly tugging at the knot on the towel. He was taken aback by his own boldness – he, the boy who had only plucked up the courage to ask out two girls in his entire life, was making moves on Mary Crawley!

"Matthew! Are you insatiable?" Mary exclaimed, although there was a twinkle in her eye that suggested that she quite enjoyed his insatiability.

Matthew merely raised an eyebrow enigmatically, letting his actions do the talking.

"I've only just had a shower. You'll make me untidy again." Mary protested feebly, gently pushing away the hand that had found its way through the gap in the towel and the lips that had found her neck.

"What you are doing tonight?" Matthew asked abruptly. He knew that Mary would have to leave soon - she had a commercial law lecture at 12pm, but he wanted to see her as soon as possible. They only had a few days left of term before they broke up for the Christmas holidays, and he was suddenly determined to ensure that he could arrive back home and proudly announce to his mother that he had a new girlfriend.

"Not much, why?" Mary frowned.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Matthew asked with a smile. It seemed a strange formality, to have to ask her like this, given all that they'd done.

Oddly, though, Mary didn't look very enthusiastic. In fact, she looked a little..._scared_, almost.

"Erm, well, I –" she stammered. Her eyes flitted around, as if she was nervous. But that couldn't be right - what on earth would she be nervous about? They'd known each other for a few years now, lived in the same accommodation block, spent most of the last fortnight together and spent the entirety of last night and this morning together, doing some very intimate things indeed. "I need to start packing tonight, you see." She said eventually.

Matthew frowned sceptically. "Mary, your housekeeper comes here to pack for you." Mary was the object of much mockery amongst their cohabitants for many reasons, one of which being that her parents' housekeeper always travelled to London the night before the last day of term specifically to 'assist' Mary with her packing and stayed overnight in a local hotel.

"Yes, but, I have much more to pack this term because of all the new books that I bought, so-"

"Mary, what's the matter?" Matthew interrupted her. It was obvious that she was making up excuses, but it was not obvious why.

Startled by the firmness of his tone, Mary looked up at him but did not respond.

"Why don't you want to have dinner with me?" He prompted.

"Because it sounds like you want to take me on a..._date_." Mary practically winced as she said the word.

"So? Is that so bad?" Matthew asked, trying not to get offended by her reaction. He couldn't understand why spending the night with him in his bed was fine, but having dinner in a restaurant would be too uncomfortable.

"It's just weird, Matthew!" Mary blurted out. "It's not what we do, we don't go on dates. Our relationship isn't like that-"

"Our relationship never involved rolling around naked together until last night but you seemed to enjoy that!" Matthew countered, but blushed slightly at his own words.

"That was different. Mary said assertively. We made a deal. Being a 'couple' together was not part of that deal!"

"If I remember correctly, the 'deal' depended on you getting a first, and correct me if I'm wrong but we didn't even wait to find that out, did we?" He pointed out. The hastiness of their actions seemed a clear indication to him that there was something between them besides pure lust, and dating seemed a natural step to take.

"It doesn't matter!" Mary persisted. "The point is that what we agreed - irrespective of when it was to happen - was to release the sexual tension between us and to have some excitement. We never agreed to pursue a relationship!"

"Alright, look, all I'm asking is for dinner." Matthew said calmly. He didn't want to completely scare her off by making her feel pressurised.

"Yes, but isn't the whole point of this dinner to start a relationship?" Mary raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"I don't understand why you're so opposed to the notion! We get along well...we clearly do _that_ well." Matthew gestured towards the thoroughly rumpled bed-clothes.

"We do not get along that well, Matthew." Mary corrected him. "You're a smart-arse, for starters!"

"So are you!" Matthew snapped back.

"I am _not_ a 'smart-arse'!" Mary gasped. "I'm just 'smart'." She folded her arms defensively.

"Only a smart-arse would say that." Matthew responded, trying to stop himself from smiling at her petulance, which he was beginning to find quite adorable. She narrowed her eyes at him but did not offer another argument. "I'm not going to bring you flowers or write you poetry or serenade you, if that's what you're worried about." He said, knowing how much she detested saccharine displays of affection. She didn't even like hugs. Mary remained silent. "We can even go somewhere low-budget if you want, to remove any trace of romanticism. I hear the Pizza Hut down the road has questionable standards of hygiene." He was happy to see Mary's lips quirk upwards at this, although she quickly schooled her expression into a more serious one.

"Fine." She shrugged reluctantly. "What time?"

"Please, try to contain your enthusiasm." Matthew joked, a smile broke through the scepticism on Mary's face. "How about 7.30pm? I'll come by your room."

"That works." Mary nodded. "Do I need to dress up?"

"Wear whatever you want. Although that towel looks pretty good on you..." Matthew said flirtatiously.

Mary gave him a playfully warning look. "Don't push your luck." Matthew chuckled.

The two of them fell into a slightly awkward silence for a few moments.

"So...are you going to let me get changed?" Mary asked, nodding her head towards the bathroom door, signalling that he should leave.

Matthew's face fell and his brow creased. "You want me to leave the room while you get changed?" She'd had no qualms with letting him undress her, so why the sudden reserve?

"Were you hoping to just sit there and watch me dress, like some kind of pervert?" Mary said dramatically.

Matthew rolled his eyes. Mary, Mary, quite contrary, indeed. "I presumed that, given the events of the last twelve hours, that-"

"Well, I'm afraid that's over." Mary cut in. "We are in the cold light of day now, so I'd prefer it if you went into the other room." She said shortly.

Refraining from pointing out that he had seen quite a lot of her 'in the cold light of day' just thirty minutes earlier, Matthew relented. "Alright, I'm going to take a shower, then. I'll see you this evening?"

Mary nodded and began searching for her undergarments. Matthew hesitated before going to his ensuite - he had been planning on giving her a goodbye kiss, at the very least, but that seemed to be out of the question. "...Bye. Have a good day." He said feebly, stepping through the bathroom door, frowning at Mary's simple hum of acknowledgement.

…

Matthew eyed Mary warily as she picked at her pasta. He had managed to make her laugh a couple of times - with a funny story about Tom's hangover, and then a bruschetta-related pun that he was quite proud of - but otherwise she had been stiff and unforthcoming from the moment he picked her up from her room. It didn't make any sense. How could she go from wanting him as soon as she awoke that morning, to behaving as if it was a chore to dine with him? He searched through his memories; they had never gone out to dinner together as such, but they had ended up eating together in the canteen or in their kitchen in halls, and it had always been fine. And she had most definitely been on dates before, so it wasn't that she was nervous or shy of the concept - Mary Crawley was never shy, in any case!

"Look at that guy sat by the window," he said, and Mary turned to follow his gaze. "Doesn't he look like Mr Robson? Remember when Ed and Geoff replaced his glasses with fake ones?" He laughed, referring to the sixth form antics of their former classmates, hoping the nostalgia would bring her out of her shell.

"Yeah," Mary nodded lazily. "There were some serious losers in our class." She said dismissively, and Matthew's spirits fell again.

They continued to eat in silence for a few more minutes, until Matthew caught sight of Mary sneaking a glance at her watch. Was she counting down the minutes until it was acceptable to leave? "Mary, I haven't been on many dates and don't really know how they work, so please tell me if I'm doing something wrong." He said earnestly.

Mary's previously haughty expression softened and she offered him a small apologetic smile. "I know I'm being distant - it's just because I still don't think this is a good idea." She explained.

"Why not?" Matthew asked, hoping that she would be honest with him.

"It's not in our nature to be a couple, Matthew." Mary explained. "We can deal with each other in small doses, but not all the time – we'd drive each other crazy. We wind each other up enough after ten minutes in each other's company!"

"But-" Matthew tried to argue his case.

"I'm sorry, Matthew." Mary apologised, and she seemed to mean it. "I should probably go." She said, reaching for her bag and unbuckling it.

"I'll get it." Matthew said, realising that she was about to retrieve her purse to pay for her share of dinner.

"Oh no, Matthew, it's alright." Mary insisted, clearly feeling too guilty to take a free meal from him after turning him down in the middle of it.

"Please." Matthew said with a small smile, gently pushing away the hand of hers that held her purse.

"OK, well, thanks." Mary smiled uncomfortably. "I'll see you later." She slid out of her seat, shrugged her jacket on, settled her handbag onto her shoulder and walked away.

Matthew sighed, left alone with his half-eaten pizza. He had wanted to address her concerns, of course, but she had made it quite clear that she didn't want to discuss it further. It was becoming increasingly apparent to him that they would make a good couple – they didn't know each other particularly well, but well enough to constitute a good foundation for a relationship, he thought.

Maybe arguing it out wasn't the best approach. There had to be another way to convince her that they would be good together.

Yes, Matthew nodded to himself resolutely. He wasn't going to let her slip away that easily.

…

_A/N: as always, reviews are appreciated! I do have an outline of where I'm going with this story, and rest assured that there is an explanation for Mary's odd behaviour – the next chapter will explore her POV more! xxx_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: HELLO! I am soooooo so sorry for the gigantic delay in updates. I have no idea what has happened to the month of July, it's vanished! I've either been out of the country or really busy at work. I'm also really busy this weekend but wanted to make sure that I updated something, so I am staying up past my bedtime to give you this _

_As a UR update, I am halfway through the next chapter but have encountered a bit of writer's block with it. My aim is to get the story completely finished by September, so I'm working towards that! hopefully the next chapter should be with you next week/weekend…_

_Anyway, this chapter is longer than most of my chapters – I hope that makes up for the huge delay! Thanks again for all your support and encouragement! xxx_

…

Mary shook her head in embarrassment at her own stupidity. She was almost twenty years old and was hiding behind a pillar to avoid the boy that she reluctantly fancied.

Since the previous morning, she had felt out of sorts, and the feeling showed no signs of abating. Waking up with Matthew and indulging in more of their illicit activities had been wonderful and exciting, but the subsequent 'date' and Matthew's obvious interest in pursuing a relationship had scared her. She had entered into their bargain knowing that she was attracted to Matthew and vice versa – she wouldn't have suggested the deal otherwise – but she had never contemplated anything further. Matthew was bringing a ball of string and superglue into what was supposed to be a no-strings-attached arrangement!

In addition the breach of contract (she was a law student, after all), there were other factors to consider. Logically, they simply weren't compatible. He was diligent and careful and found pleasure in small things; she, on the other hand, had a tendency to be irreverent, demanding and felt stifled easily. It seemed like all Matthew wanted from life was to be comfortable and settled, but Mary grew up with great comfort and was aching to break away from it all. She wanted to experience new things, to be thrilled and exhilarated and to make the most of all the opportunities that she knew she wouldn't have once she got married. Because, inevitably, she was going to marry a man who had the exact same attitude as her forefathers - and she would spend the rest of her life bored out of her mind.

In between Matthew asking her out to dinner and the actual dinner that evening, the incompatibility issue had been the main reason for her hesitance in pursuing things with him. She had toyed with the idea of cancelling on him at the last minute, but then convinced herself that dating someone like Matthew – someone _lower _class – could count as a unique experience for her. Something to 'try out' before being made to wed an aristocrat. However, as soon as Matthew had picked her up from her room the previous evening, a strong fear emerged. The sudden realisation that she had never actually been in a proper relationship swept over her. Of course, she had spent time with various young men and been on dates with them and engaged in some casual sex, but that was different. There was no real emotion, no _commitment_ involved.

Matthew , by contrast, was the epitome of the perfect boyfriend. To her knowledge, he had been in one serious relationship in their last year of school and another, shorter relationship in their first year of university and had treated both young ladies with love and loyalty. He was affectionate, a good listener, laid-back and considerate. Essentially, he was the complete opposite of everything that Mary Crawley was known to be.

In short, Mary had no idea what she could offer him besides playful banter and some fun between the sheets. She didn't know how to whisper sweet nothings, but she knew how to suggestively raise an eyebrow and smile flirtatiously. She knew how to exchange quick, sharp comments, to tease and outsmart, but she didn't know how to speak about her problems and innermost feelings. She didn't know how to hold hands, but she knew how to incite groans of pleasure with the touch of her fingers. She knew how to be the fun, alluring girl who acts as the object of desire. But she didn't know how to be the _girlfriend._

Being on a date with Matthew, even in light of everything they'd done mere hours earlier, had highlighted this deficiency to Mary. Conversation had become a struggle for her. She felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. How was she supposed to behave? Did he want her to kiss his cheek, compliment him and let him pay the bill? If she let him convince her that they should start dating long-term, she knew that she would fall short. He would be disappointed in her, and she would embarrass herself.

Although she was doing a fine job of embarrassing herself already, she thought, as she saw Anna give her a questioning look from across the courtyard. Matthew, in a fitted blue jumper and beige corduroys that looked so good on him, was on his way out of a family law lecture with Anna and had stopped to speak to a friend of his. Anna had spotted Mary, who had unconsciously exposed herself by peering around the pillar to get a better look at Matthew, and opened her mouth to call out to her. Hastily, Mary had placed a finger to her lips, indicating that Anna should keep quiet.

It was a testament to Anna's loyalty that she had obeyed, for Mary looked inexplicably ridiculous. There were several other students milling around, staring at her as they passed by, all clearly wondering why Mary Crawley had positioned herself behind a pillar that was widely known as a favourite haunt for birds who wished to empty their bowels and drunken students who wished to empty their alcohol-filled bladders (or stomachs). The unwanted attention was beginning to get to her, so Mary decided to make a furtive escape back to her room.

As luck would have it, her natural grace decided to cruelly abandon her when she needed it most, and she tripped over an uneven paving slab. Thankfully the universe decided to spare her from _total_ embarrassment, and she was able to avoid smacking her face into the concrete by breaking her fall with her hands, but a concerned Anna nevertheless yelped from across the courtyard and dashed over to make sure that her friend was alright. Naturally, Matthew's head spun round to catch the sight of Mary collecting the papers that had flown out of her bag as it had tumbled to the ground.

"Are you OK?" Anna asked, helping gather some make-up that had also fallen out of the tote bag.

"Fine." Mary replied tersely, trying to ignore the mutters from students around her, for whom seeing the typically unflappable Mary Crawley become, well, _flapped_, was quite a spectacle.

"Mary, are you alright?"

Mary closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Some naïve part of her had hoped that Matthew had managed to miss that unfortunate incident. He was the one person she did not want to speak to. The air between them was bound to be tainted with awkwardness now that she had rejected his requests to start a relationship. Moreover, it was likely that the awkwardness would be compounded by her feelings for him. Not that they were deep feelings, of course. Just a 'crush', as they say. But it would still be best to spend some time apart, to dispel any tension between them and to allow Mary to clear her head (and body) of any amorousness.

"I'm fine." She said rigidly, keeping her eyes trained on the bag that she was now readjusting on her shoulder. "Thank you." She added, not wanting to appear hostile in front of Anna, who had no clue what had passed between Mary and Matthew in recent days.

"Good." Matthew said quietly.

_Oh God_, Mary thought. _This is even more awkward than I'd imagined it would be_.

"This is Bill." Anna said, for want of something to say, indicating the young man with whom Matthew had been speaking.

"Oh, yes, sorry," Matthew tutted as a reprimand to himself for forgetting his manners. "Bill is on the tennis team with me. Bill, this is Mary, another law student."

Mary curled her lips upwards in response to Bill's greeting, but it didn't really resemble a smile - the rest of her face was completely stony.

"So, are you all going to the Christmas party tonight?" Bill asked. He was referring to the student union's annual Christmas party – a fairly elaborate bash (by student standards) that was widely attended, with most students using it as a vehicle to become thoroughly trashed on cheap drinks and to 'pull' other students. The pillar behind which Mary had been hiding would undoubtedly smell very foul the next morning.

Anna and Matthew both nodded their confirmation of attendance, and the group turned to Mary. She actually had been planning on going to the party, but now it didn't seem like such a good idea. There would be thousands of undergraduates there but, given their overlapping friendship groups, it would be very difficult to avoid Matthew all evening.

"Actually, I can't. I need to pack." She said shortly, hoping her curt answer wouldn't invite any questions.

"Why?" Anna immediately asked.

"Because Emily is unwell and can't come down to help me pack, so I need to do it all myself." Mary lied. She supposed that it wouldn't be the worst thing if she packed for herself and let her housekeeper have a day off.

Anna and Matthew were frowning and opened their mouths as if they were going to ask more questions, but the sound of a chirpy voice interrupted them. Mary would have been grateful for the distraction had the voice not belonged to one of her least favourite people in the entire world (and there was lots of competition on that front).

"Hi, Louisa." Matthew smiled at the sight of Louisa Alessi bounding towards him. Mary quashed the pangs of jealousy in the pit of her stomach.

"Matthew! Bill! How are my two budding Andy Murrays?" Louisa laughed far too much at her own bland joke. As expected, she didn't acknowledge the presence of Mary or Anna. "When is your next tournament? I want to come and cheer you on!"

"Probably not until March." Bill replied, a wide smile on his face as he had Louisa's attention. "The tennis courts are being used to store some props for the play, so we need to wait until that's over." He explained.

"Oh, yes! The play!" Louisa exclaimed. Mary wondered how someone could be so excited by absolutely everything. "I'm applying to be the choreographer. I'll make it so much better than last year."

"I'm sure you're a strong contender." Matthew said warmly.

Louisa giggled some more and touched his arm. "You look good today, by the way." She told him, her eyes travelling over him. "This jumper fits you _very_ well. It really brings out your eyes, too." She smiled flirtatiously. Matthew glanced down at the floor shyly and Mary noticed a blush creep across his cheeks. Bill looked thoroughly unimpressed by the exchange. "Anyway, I need to go – my friends and I are going shopping for dresses to wear to the party tonight. Hopefully see you boys there – you can buy me a drink!" Mary practically recoiled at the desperation and despaired over the modern day woman. Louisa wiggled her fingers at the young men before sauntering off.

"I'd forgotten all about the play." Anna said. The university had a recent tradition of putting on a play every March, just before the Easter holidays. Each play over the last few years had been bigger and better than the previous one and it was fast becoming a staple annual event, matching the Christmas party. Last year's had been a production of West Side Story and this year's would be South Pacific. "Good luck to Louisa with her efforts to become choreographer, eh?" Anna looked at Mary wryly.

"What do you mean?" Bill asked.

"Mary is in charge of the backstage team." Anna responded.

"So you get to decide between all the applicants?" Bill said.

Mary nodded triumphantly. "I do."

"You must remember to be _fair_ when choosing people, Mary." Anna said teasingly. "You're meant to be choosing people based on their talent, not whether you like them or not."

"I know." Mary shrugged. "Don't think I won't employ Louisa where she's most suited. I think she'll be perfectly wonderful at mixing paint for the props team." She said seriously, and Anna stifled a laugh.

"She is a very good choreographer, you know." Matthew piped up. "I went to one of the dance shows that she worked on. It's worth giving her a chance. It'll only make you look better if the backstage team performs well under your direction, anyway." He said genuinely.

Mary had thought that the last thing she'd wanted to do this morning was speak to Matthew. She'd been wrong. It transpired that the last thing she'd wanted to do was to speak to Matthew and hear him tell her what to do whilst speaking well of Louisa Alessi.

"I think I'm capable of making my own decisions, thank you." Mary said bluntly.

"I'm sure there'll be many strong applicants." Anna said diplomatically, knowing how much Mary detested the brown-haired social climber. "I'm going to head back to halls to grab some lunch." Anna announced to the group.

"I'll come with you." Mary quickly replied, not wanting to be left with Matthew and his friend without the comfort of Anna there unknowingly acting as a buffer. She smiled falsely in the vague direction of Matthew as she took her leave, and let out a deep breath that she didn't know she'd been holding.

…

Mary casually sprinkled some chopped onion into the pan. The large kitchen, shared by all the students who lived down her corridor and the corridor above, was empty except for her, and she was enjoying the solitude. That is, until the old door creaked open to reveal an attractive blonde boy walking in. The very attractive blonde boy that Mary had sought refuge in the kitchen to avoid.

"Hello." Matthew said, startled by her presence.

"What are you doing here?" Mary blurted out, sounding less than welcoming. It was quite annoying, to be frank, that he was here, given that she'd planned her entire day around evading him and yet this was the second time she'd had to encounter him.

"I was going to make some dinner…" Matthew replied uncertainly, as if worried that he wasn't allowed to.

"But you said you were going to the Christmas party." Mary reminded him, perturbed.

"Oh, yeah," Matthew nodded in acknowledgement, "I was going to go. But I agreed to proof-read my family law lecturer's new book and he's got the manuscript ready. He asked if I could get the first couple of chapters done before I go home for Christmas." Matthew explained, fishing around in his cupboard for cooking utensils.

"Well aren't i glad that i don't do family law." Mary said drolly. "The lecturer sounds like a killjoy." Matthew chuckled and she tried not to be pleased by the sound. He was being a nuisance by being here in the first place, she told herself.

"How's the packing going?" Matthew asked, opening a packet of egg noodles. "It must be a novel experience for you." He gave her a cheeky smile.

"It's going _very_ well - I've already done my clothes and books. I could probably go home tonight if I needed to." Mary replied defensively. "I realised that I have a lot of leftover food, though."

"Same here; I'm hoping to chuck it all into a stir fry." He gestured to the random assortment of food that was now in front of him. "What are you making?"

"Well, I seem to have a lot of beef that all expires tomorrow, so I'm having…a lot of beef for dinner." Matthew laughed at this.

The two stood quietly at opposite ends of the kitchen, the only sounds being the hiss of oil in a hot pan and a knife briskly chopping up vegetables. Internally, however, Mary's mind was noisy with conflicting thoughts. She debated whether to bring up the topic of their date that had flopped the night before. Was there any need for it? Matthew seemed content to carry on as friends. He didn't even seem to be nervous or embarrassed - she was sure that any awkwardness was emanating from her. That annoyed her, too - that he could make her feel uncomfortable, that he could maintain the more casual attitude even when it had been her who had turned him down.

"I suppose you'll be busy over Christmas with your preparations for the play." Matthew said eventually, with the obvious sole purpose of attempting to get a conversation going.

But Mary rolled her eyes. Could he not leave her in peace for even ten minutes, to allow her to collect her thoughts? Must he invade all of her alone time? Was she to expect him to fall down her chimney on Christmas Eve, dressed as a strangely attractive Santa Clause?

"I doubt that. She replied. Though I'm sure you think I should be." She remarked coldly.

"Well, it's not really for me to say..." Matthew said slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion at her hostility. She always argued with him, but Mary knew that her current tone was harsher than usual.

"That is exactly what I think." She said tersely. She continued to turn the pieces of meat over and over again, mechanically, not even paying attention to what she was doing. All she could think about was how nice three weeks without that stupid, pontificating blonde head was going to be.

"I think you're overcooking the beef." Matthew warned, casting a wary glance over at the increasingly charred chunks of meat.

"No, I'm not." Mary replied without hesitation. "Just because you eat your meat while it's practically still alive, like some sort of philistine." She said haughtily.

"I'd rather eat raw meat than lumps of charcoal, which is what you're turning your dinner into." Matthew said teasingly, approaching the hob where Mary was stood, with the apparent intention of 'salvaging' the beef himself.

"Why do you care? This isn't even your dinner- go away!" Mary exclaimed, positioning herself in between Matthew and the hob so that he couldn't reach the dials on the hob to turn the heat off.

"I care because I don't like seeing perfectly good food get ruined!" Matthew argued back, although he was smirking at her attempts to push him away. She really wasn't as strong as she'd have people think. He playfully pushed back, nudging her away from the stove. It was all a big joke to him.

"Matthew!" Mary exclaimed. "It's dangerous to play around like this when there's fire and sizzling beef right in front of us!"

"You're right." Matthew stopped his movements. "So just let me finish off your dinner for you. I can make a nice sauce to cover up the taste of cinders and ash." He offered seriously, although Mary didn't fail to catch the teasing glint in his eye. He was infuriating - condemning her cooking and pretending that he was stepping in to save the day with his superior skills, like some sort of culinary messiah.

"You can be such a smug little know-it-all, you know." Mary glared at him. "Just because you helped me prepare for the exam, you think you know everything better than me."

"I don't think I know everything better than you." Matthew said defensively. "I just know that if you let that meat cook for another minute longer then you'll be left dinner-less. But if you don't believe me then i'm not going to force you. It's your choice." He shrugged nonchalantly and turned his back to her and began chopping up some peppers.

Mary's blood was beginning to boil. By rescinding his offer of help, he was imposing a choice on her - a choice between eating what he guaranteed would be awful food, or asking for his help. Either way, she would be embarrassed. In short, he was using the exact same tactics as he had to get her to beg for his help with the mock exam! Well, she sure as hell wasn't going to give in this time.

She turned back to the pan and started angrily throwing in handfuls of spices and seasoning while aggressively tossing the meat around with a wooden spoon. _He thinks he can get me to crawl to him and ask for his precious tutoring services, he thinks he can seduce me, he thinks he can ask me out and expect me to say yes, and now he thinks he can force his way into my dinner preparations!_ She knew she was being unfair and petty but, honestly, she didn't care.

The tense silence was interrupted by the wooden door to the kitchen swinging open, and William walking in.

"Hey, guys." He smiled merrily as he walked in. "You're not heading to the student union?"

"No, I've got work to do and Mary's packing." Matthew replied, and even the fact that he'd answered this simple question on her behalf was enough to make Mary shake her head at his audacity.

"Oh, that's a shame." William said genially, taking a drink out of the fridge. He was very fond of Matthew and seemed to view him as some sort of role model/older brother-type, despite them both being the same age. "Everyone in our block is already there, I think, and I'm just on my way. So it'll be pretty empty round here-" He began, before stopping to sniff the air, a frown on his face. "Do you smell that? It smells like-" he paused to identify the odour.

"What does it smell like?" Matthew asked eagerly, hoping to have someone else on his side.

"Yes, William, what _does_ it smell like?" Mary asked sternly, giving William a challenging look that she presumed would scare him into silence. He always had been a bit frightened of her.

"Erm..." William faltered slightly under her steely gaze. "I thought it smelt a bit like coal or something." He mumbled timidly.

Mary narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the exaggerated laughter coming from Matthew. He was taking great enjoyment from riling her up. "You're wrong. I don't smell anything." She said resolutely, giving William another withering stare before turning back to the hob. She gasped.

The beef was completely black.

"What is it?" Matthew asked, and she could sense him and William edging closer to see what had surprised her. She tried to block their view but was too late.

"I hate to say 'I told you so' but..." Matthew said smugly.

_No you don't, you arrogant little man_. "It's fine, it's still edible." Mary insisted, resisting the urge to throw the contents of the pan in Matthew's face. "It's just a bit...crispy on the outside, but-" She tried to move it around with a fork to prove that it was in fact tender, but she accidentally pushed it out of the pan. It fell onto the kitchen counter, with a sound resembling cannon ball dropping on a hard floor. Matthew barely stifled a laugh.

"I've got some tinned hot dogs on the fridge if you want, Mary." William offered sincerely.

"I think I'd rather eat nothing than eat that." Mary replied drolly, wrinkling her nose at the thought of tinned processed meat.

"Oh, alright. Well, they're there if you change your mind." William said softly, looking to Matthew, who gave him a reassuring smile. "Anyway, I'll see you guys later."

"Have fun tonight, keep an eye on Tom's alcohol intake." Matthew grinned, and William nodded and chuckled on his way out. "He was only being kind, you didn't need to shoot him down like that." He addressed Mary, who was prodding each individual lump of meat with a fork to double-check their digestibility.

"You would say that, he's like your pathetic little lap dog." Mary bit back.

"Don't be cruel." Matthew said firmly. William was a sweet boy, but Mary knew that Matthew was protective of his friend and she was saying whatever she could to aggravate him as much as he'd managed to aggravate her.

"Don't tell me what to do."

Matthew sighed with exasperation and went back to his own dinner. Finally accepting that her dinner was beyond repair, Mary glanced sideways and spied his perfectly prepared stir fry.

"Give me some of your dinner." She demanded.

"No." Matthew said abruptly, not raising his eyes from the wok.

"If it wasn't for you arguing with me and distracting me so much then this wouldn't have happened!"

Matthew pondered this argument for a moment. "Still no."

"Why?" She stamped her foot on the floor for the first time since she was eight years old and her parents refused her request for a tree-house with an ensuite bathroom.

Matthew raised an eyebrow, amusedly by her petulance. "Because you chose to ignore my repeated attempts at helping you. You've made your bed." He replied.

"You weren't trying to 'help' me, you were deliberately trying to irritate me." Mary said through gritted teeth. She swore she had never met someone so self-righteous in her entire life.

"So cynical for one so young." Matthew shook his head with faux melancholy.

Mary took a deep, steadying breath to prevent herself from slapping him. "Give. Me. Your. Dinner." She repeated slowly.

"No." He stood and looked at her, awaiting her next move.

Deciding that words were no good, Mary resorted to actions. She took a couple of swift steps forward, towards the wok on the other stove.

"Oi, stop it!" Matthew held up a bottle of soy sauce and a pepper shaker to ward her off.

"Do you think i have a phobia of condiments or something?" Mary scoffed, persisting in reaching the precious food. She was bloody starving. "Aha!" She said delightedly as she managed to touch the handle of the wok.

"Get your own food!" Matthew exclaimed, instinctively dipping his hand into the sink next to him and flicking water at her so that she'd back off. "Oh, shit..." He said, with a regretful glance down into the sink.

Mary followed his gaze. The basin was filled with several dirty dishes and cutlery soaking in murky, discoloured water.

"Did you just spray me with filthy water?!" Mary shouted, disgusted.

"I think 'filthy' is a bit strong-" Matthew suggested, looking at the water appraisingly. Mary threw daggers at him with her eyes. "You have a bit of carrot in your hair." Matthew said, clearly trying not to smirk for fear of being walloped by Mary. _He better be afraid_, Mary thought to herself determinedly.

"Where? Can you get it out?" Mary asked innocently.

"Yeah, sure, it's just-" Matthew reached an arm out towards her hair.

While he was distracted with fishing out the damp carrot remnants from her beautiful hair, Mary stealthily dipped a cupped hand into the sink, collecting as much dishwater as possible, before quickly splashing it onto Matthew's trousers.

"Argh!" Matthew jumped back in horror, prompting Mary to burst out laughing. She had created an admirably large wet patch right on his crotch. "Jesus! Mary!" He cried, looking down at himself.

The commotion had apparently caught the attention of Tom, who had been passing by and now peeked his head around the kitchen door. "Are you guys re-enacting the nativity or something?" He quipped, before spotting what Mary was now bent over double laughing at. "Bloody hell, Matthew!" Tom barked out a laugh. "Want me to get you some Pampers for Christmas?" This only served to make Mary laugh even harder, and Matthew narrowed his eyes at them both, thoroughly unamused. "As much as I'd _love_ to stay and find out what happened here, I'm late for the party." Tom announced, winking at Mary before disappearing.

"Will you stop laughing?" Matthew said bitterly, looking for some tissue or a dishcloth. "It's really not that funny."

"It's just-" Mary gasped through her laughter, "there's some...pot-potato peel on there too!" She clapped her hands together with glee.

"Oh for God's sake." Matthew muttered, both at Mary's childishness and at the fact that there was indeed some potato peel on his trousers, and it created a rather amusing shape.

Mary eventually calmed herself down, and once Matthew had managed to dry his trousers as much as he could, the two of them washed their hands clean of the dirty water.

"Your hair is still-" Matthew began, grabbing a clean tissue and proceeding to dab it on her still damp hair.

"Don't touch me!" Mary dodged out of the way, anticipating more foul play.

"That's not what you said a couple of nights ago." Matthew said pointedly. In the midst of her immense annoyance with him, the reminder of their night of passion was like a slap in the face, and she had no idea how to respond. Mary felt the heat rise up her cheeks at the memories he invoked with his statement. She most definitely had _not_ batted him away two nights ago. "Look, let me just help with your hair." Matthew changed the topic, and Mary could see that his cheeks had also flushed.

"No." Mary said automatically.

Matthew sighed frustratedly. "Why are you so stubborn?"

"I'm not being stubborn." Mary replied, glad that he was returning to being 'annoying Matthew' rather than 'seductive Matthew', although the line between the two was becoming increasingly blurred, much to her irritation. "Forgive me if I don't blindly trust you after you coated my hair in used dishwater." She said drolly.

"Well, you should have listened to me in the first place!" Matthew bit back, taking a step towards her.

"Oh, of course, all the world's problems would be solved if everyone just did what Matthew Crawley told them to do!" Mary threw her hands up dramatically, taking a step backwards to maintain the distance between them. "I should start making wristbands with 'WWMD?' printed on them. Unless you already have an abundant stock?" She quirked her head mockingly.

"You're being ridiculous." Matthew said, shaking his head but continuing to walk towards her. "Why do you have such a problem with listening to other people?"

"Why are you so obsessed with preaching to everyone?" Mary countered, walking backwards.

"It's not a weakness, you know, to listen to people and not get your own way all the time." Matthew said, ignoring her question.

"You're giving me another sermon!"

"You're being stubborn!"

"Just because I say no to _you_, that does _not_ make me stubborn!" Mary said, determined to deflate his ego. "You presume that everyone wants to say 'yes' to you. Well, I'm sorry, but I don't." She held her chin up defiantly.

Something changed in Matthew's countenance. He was looking at her very differently now. The exasperation was replaced with something else...something familiar... "You said yes to me when I suggested that we go back to my room." He said, his voice much lower than it had been. Mary now recognised his expression - it was the one he wore on his face when he was seated next to her at the bar two nights ago. Mary felt her back hit against something hard; throughout their argument, they had unknowingly backed themselves up against the refrigerator. "You said yes to me when I told you all the things I wanted to do to you." He whispered, his face inches from hers.

"Matthew-" she said feebly, feeling the need to say something.

"What?" Matthew prompted, but the movement of his delicious looking lips was all that registered in Mary's mind and, before she knew it, they were on hers, tugging and pulling, coaxing her mouth open.

The force of his kiss was pushing her against the refrigerator, its cool door providing a welcome respite from the heat building inside her.

Their mouths worked so fiercely against each other that Mary began to lose all sense of whose lips were whose. Until, that is, the sensation of Matthew's warm, wet tongue running along the side of her own made her moan loudly and grasp at his shoulders and neck.

One of his hands snaked around her and grabbed hold of her bottom, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh of her buttock. Mary was almost beyond whimpering by this point - she wanted to cry out but her mouth was too occupied to do so.

When Mary had dressed that morning, she had decided to wear her favourite cashmere jumper, as she loved the feel of the soft material against her skin. That feeling paled in comparison to the touch of Matthew's warm hand gliding over the exposed skin of her back, as it did now. Mary had managed to overcome the blissful stillness that had allowed her to be pushed up against the communal refrigerator so inelegantly, and now she pushed back against Matthew, one hand on his shoulder and one firmly tangled in his hair, as their heads angled from side to side, seeking ever deeper penetration, and their bodies swayed and arched into each other.

The numerous sensations that Matthew was invoking created a pleasant tingling all over her body. A few moments later, however, the feel of his fingers on her back became more prominent. Her gasp at her realisation of what he was doing coincided with the distinct feel of her bra clasp becoming undone. As much as she liked where he was going with this, she tried pushing him away. When that didn't work (he had a much stronger hold on her than she'd realised), she tore her head away from his and turned it to the side.

"What are you doing?" She breathed.

"What do you think?!" He rasped, irritated by the interruption. He found a suitable replacement for her lips in her slender neck, so began suckling on that instead.

"We- can't." Mary struggled to speak. He was finding the most sensitive parts of her and exploiting them as much as he could. It was hard to believe that she could feel like this and still be fully clothed. "Someone could come in and- ah!" There was a sharp intake of breath as Matthew gently sank his teeth into the skin over her pulse and sucked. It was sure to leave a mark, and she could practically feel the smug smirk emanating from his adorably stupid face, but it was difficult to care right now. We need to go somewhere else. She said, once she'd somewhat recovered.

"Nobody will come in." Matthew seemed awfully confident of this. So confident, in fact, that he was continuing to undress her even as he spoke. Mary's body was swept away in the tide of Matthew's ministrations and she automatically lifted her arms as he pulled her jumper upwards, flinging her bra aside with it.

Mary was halfway between shock and admiration. This was the same Matthew who - this very morning - had blushed when another girl had complimented him on his woollen jumper, and now he was enthusiastically sucking on her bare breast.

"How do you know nobody will come in?" She persisted. As much as she wanted to follow through, the idea of being caught doing the dirty on the kitchen floor was not massively appealing.

"God dammit, Mary." Matthew complained. "Will you just listen to me for once?" His hands were under her skirt, removing her undergarments.

"Forgive me for not being blasé about shagging in the middle of a communal area." Despite her protestations, she was already unbuckling his belt.

"You had no problem with exposing me in the middle of the library." Matthew countered, undoing his zip. "Everyone is at the union." He mumbled. "William said so."

"You realise this could result in serious disciplinary action if we _were_ caught?" She wasn't sure why she was still talking, but she supposed that it was an attempt to introduce a sense of normalcy into this thoroughly surreal situation.

"You're worth it." Matthew replied without hesitation. Mary's stomach did a little flutter.

"Since when have you been so confident?" Mary panted, remembering the incident in the library where her actions had shocked and stunned him. How the tables had turned.

"Since around the time we struck our little bargain." Matthew replied. "You've brought it out of me."

"Well done me." Mary murmured.

Matthew her up and carrying her over to the kitchen door. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he leaned her back against the door. "This should stop anyone else coming in, just in case."

"Against the door?" Mary asked in shock, but she received no answer. His mouth consumed hers and she groaned into it as he entered her. He was surprisingly strong, holding her up whilst thrusting so energetically. Her assessment of his strength and her conscious attempts to remain quiet were short-lived, however, as Mary's mind soon clouded over and she lost all ability to form a coherent thought or be aware of anything beyond the feel of Matthew's body.

After several minutes of paradoxical numbness and jelly-limbs combined with having every one of her nerve-endings stimulated to their maximum capacity, and with three final frenetic thrusts, Matthew all but collapsed onto the ground, Mary's legs still around his waist and her arms still around his neck.

…

_A/N: so it was a little silly and a little smutty. Hopefully you enjoyed it! Also, I have no idea about cooking beef so I'm not sure what the effects are of over-cooking it. I've also conjured up a university in my head that happens to be called King's College, London, so just go with it… __ Thanks for reading! xxxx_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I know this will come as a massive shock, but I am actually updating the same story twice within a week! The response to the last chapter (and the fact that this fic is just fun to write) incentivised (see what I did there) me to do another chapter! I also have the next chapter planned out and am itching to write it but I am going to make myself update UR before I do another one for this._

_Thanks SO much for all the lovely reviews. I really think we're experiencing a kind of 'golden age' of M/M fics at the moment – there are so many wonderful fics being written right now that I am having trouble keeping up with them all – so I really appreciate that people are taking time to read and respond to this one._

_This chapter has a flashback kind of structure – I hope it makes sense!_

_Finally, I initially had different ideas for this chapter, but a couple of my lovely reviewers suggested something that I liked the sound of, so I went with that…xxx_

…

Matthew slouched in his chair, frowning moodily as his mother spooned out more brussel sprouts onto his plate. It wasn't that he didn't like brussel sprouts – in fact, he'd had a taste for vegetables ever since he was a baby, making Isobel Crawley the envy of young mothers everywhere – but rather that the Christmas holidays so far had been very disappointing and distinctly un-merry.

Instead of excitedly bounding back home ten days ago with news of a new girlfriend, he had sullenly dragged himself into his mother's car and avoided all of her questions as they drove from London to Manchester. 'Operation Mary' had not quite gone as planned.

…

Casually leafing through a magazine while eating her breakfast, Mary's peace was disturbed by rapid footsteps approaching her room, followed by the door swinging open.

"Sorry." Anna apologised for her rudeness, knocking on the door belatedly though she was already holding it open.

"It's alright," Mary said, growing concerned by her friend's uncharacteristically abrupt behaviour. "What-"

"Results are out!" Anna blurted out.

Mary's eyes widened in alarm. She wasn't prepared for this! "Already? I thought they were going to be released this evening?"

"So did I, but apparently they finished marking them early." Anna explained. She looked as anxious as Mary now felt. While the results of mock exams in the middle of second year were not a major cause for concern for most students, Anna was at university on a scholarship, and a term of her scholarship was that she maintained a 2:1 average. Mary was seeking good grades in order to escape a certain life and Anna was seeking good grades in order to attain a certain life, but the similar pressures were what had led to the two of them bonding and becoming friends. The two young ladies were therefore uniquely worried about the outcome of their mock.

"Well, what did you get?" Mary asked impatiently. Anna was hard-working but not quite as bright as Mary. Nevertheless, Anna's grade could serve as a good indicator for what Mary would get.

"I haven't looked yet! I couldn't. I'm too nervous. Look with me?" Anna asked shyly.

Mary nodded. She wouldn't admit it, but she wanted a comforting presence by her side too. Together, they sat in front of Mary's laptop and simultaneously took a deep breath as Mary logged on to the student portal where their grades would be listed.

"I got a 2.1!" Anna exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "How did you do?"

Mary's eyes frantically scanned the screen, annoyed that she was taking so long to find her name. Finally, she saw it.

_Mary Crawley - 1st_.

She sat back in her chair, a wide smile of relief spread over her face.

"Mary, that's amazing!" Anna said happily, having found Mary's name herself. "That means you can stay!"

"Yes," Mary breathed, her heart rate returning to normal. She was, of course, exceedingly pleased that she had managed to redeem herself after a term of slacking off and guarantee her place at the university for a little while longer. Strangely, though, that hadn't been her instinctive thought upon seeing her grade. Her mind had automatically thought of Matthew. Without a shadow of a doubt, she couldn't have achieved this without him. It was down to her supreme intelligence too, of course (she wasn't going to be _that_ gracious), but with his help they had formed a powerful team and had attained the near-impossible.

The idea of her and Matthew as a kind of 'team' made her smile involuntarily.

"Oh Mary, I don't remember the last time I saw you this happy!" Anna beamed at her. "You worked really hard for this, didn't you?" She said, clearly mistaking the dreamy look on her friend's face for pride.

"Hmm? Oh, right, yes." Mary quickly recovered from her daydream and nodded at Anna.

"Well, I'm going to go and call my parents." Anna announced. "I'm sure you want to inform Mr Crawley of your result – he'll be a very proud father!"

Anna was correct, but it was a different 'Mr Crawley' whom Mary had been intending to inform. Smiling at her friend as she closed the door, Mary reached for her phone. After lots of frustrated thumb-twiddling and several drafts, she sent Matthew a message. It was nice and casual.

_I don't know if you heard, but results are out. Just wanted to tell you that I got what I needed._

She received a swift reply.

_Congratulations! You really deserve it. I just checked mine and I'm pretty happy too. We should celebrate! Are you free tonight? X_

…

"Honestly, I don't understand why he looks so solemn all the time. He usually loves Christmas!" The sound of his mother's voice drifted across the dining table.

"I was just asking your Mum why you're in such deep thought," said his Aunt Miriam, catching his attention. "I know Christmas Day is supposed to be a time for reflection and all that, but you're letting your turkey go cold!" She pointed to the veritable mountain of food that Isobel had served on his plate.

"And your party-hat has gone askew, dear." Aunt Elsie tutted, reaching over and fussed with the flimsy paper hat.

"I'm not surprised – misery repels party-hats." Uncle Geoff tittered.

"I'm not miserable," Matthew said defensively, "just tired." He blocked out the heated discussion that ensued on 21st-century youths and their lack of respect for sensible sleeping patterns, and returned to his thoughts of what had passed at the end of term. It had all been so promising – Mary had chosen to text him about her grade and had even implicitly thanked him for it. Receiving _any_ form of thanks from Mary Crawley was not an everyday occurrence. Edith had once driven down to London, while staving off a fever, specifically to deliver a silk dress that Mary had demanded should be personally couriered to her, and drove all the way back that very evening without even a cursory 'thank you' flung her way.

He didn't think he had been presumptuous by interpreting her text as a signal of her interest in him. They had, after all, had passionate sex the night before. It had seemed like everything was falling into place, albeit in a very different manner to what he was used to with girls.

Where had it all gone wrong?

…

His finger hovering over the 'send' button, Matthew debated whether his invitation to dinner was too forward. _Nah_, he thought. After last night, there wasn't much that could be construed as 'too forward' between he and Mary.

Sitting back in his chair in the library, his family law lecturer's draft chapter on adoption on the desk, he eagerly awaited a response. A few minutes elapsed and there was no reply. In an attempt to pass the time, he opened his laptop and began researching restaurants in the area that Mary may not have visited. He wanted to take her to dinner again, and for it to be classy and intimate without being too expensive. He didn't want her to think that he was trying to buy her admiration – she had enough suitors doing that already, he supposed. Just as he started to read a few positive reviews of a new Vietnamese place, the faint vibration of his phone alerted him to a new message. Grinning, he grabbed it and tapped to open the text. His grin quickly faded.

_Matthew, if you're asking me out on another date – and I think you are – I have to decline. I'm fully aware of what we did last night but I think it was a mistake. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I'll see you around. _

Matthew's mouth fell open as he stared at the small screen.

What the _hell_ was that supposed to mean?

Frowning, he immediately tried to call her. She didn't answer. He debated sending her a reply, but had no idea what to say. 'Alright, that's fine, see you later'? That seemed like the least confrontational option. The only problem was that it would be a complete lie – her message wasn't fine at all! It _may_ have been fine if she had offered him a decent justification for her rejection; at the moment, he was at a complete loss.

Before he could decide what to do, Tom appeared in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" Matthew whispered, surprised to see his friend in a library at all, let alone at the end of term.

"I was going to ask you the same thing." Tom said, his voice at its normal volume. "Why are you here at 9.45am when we haven't even got any more work to do before the holidays?"

"Shh, keep your voice down." Matthew whispered again.

"Matthew, you're the only bloody person here!" Tom stepped back and gestured to the dozens of empty desks around them. "Anyway, we're going to be late for our lecture. Come on, chop chop."

Matthew sighed. He couldn't wait another hour to speak to Mary. "I don't think I'll go." At Tom's utterly shocked expression, he continued, "It's the last lecture of term, it's not like we'll do anything useful."

"But it's the extended EU lecture." Tom said, perplexed by his friend's atypically lackadaisical attitude. "Tomlinson will be going through the mock exam in detail, giving us model answers and hints on what will be in the real exam. Remember?"

Annoyingly, Tom was right. As much as he wanted to clear the air with Mary, this was going to be a vital lecture. Reluctantly, he began shoving his papers into his rucksack.

"Wait-" He said suddenly, and Tom looked up from where he was interestedly perusing a book on pornography in the sociology section. "It's an EU lecture!" He exclaimed, realising that Mary would be there too. Perhaps he would be able to sit next to her. It was bound to be a full lecture theatre, though, given the utility of the content – he would have to get there as early as possible.  
"Er, yeah…that's what I just said." Tom stared blankly at him.

"Let's go." Matthew directed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and hurrying out, a bewildered Tom trailing behind him.

Impressively, they managed to arrive at the lecture before most other students. Seating himself in the middle of the room, Matthew looked for Mary while ignoring Tom's complaints about how the power-walk had disintegrated his calf muscles. Minutes passed, and the room gradually filled up. Mary was nowhere to be seen. Matthew's heart jumped when Anna walked in, but fell when he saw that she was alone. The lecture commenced and there was still no sign of her. A few students trickled in during the first twenty minutes (those most hungover from the Christmas party the night before). Each time the door creaked open or there was a shuffling from the back of the room, Matthew's head spun round to see whether it was Mary, much to the irritation of the person behind him who had to peer around his constantly bobbing, rotating head just to get a look at the lecturer's slideshow.

Tomlinson's slow drawl about summarising case-law and writing an effective conclusion completely washed over Matthew, who, having accepted that Mary wasn't going to show up, spent the remaining one hour and ten minutes wondering why she had stayed away. He tried to convince himself that it was because Mary deemed the lecture unnecessary in light of her stellar results. In reality, he suspected that he was the main reason for her absence. Exactly what he had done to push her away, though, he didn't know.

Arriving outside his accommodation block, none-the-wiser about Mary's elusiveness, Matthew fumbled around in his pocket for his keys. The plan was to eat some lunch, formulate a strategy for how he was going to approach Mary, and then follow through with it. Unfortunately, he only had confidence in his ability to perform the first of those three tasks.

"Matthew!"

His instant reaction was to recognise a refined female voice calling his name outside the building in which he and Mary both lived. Turning to the source of the sound so quickly that he was sure he sustained whiplash, Matthew set his eyes upon a Miss Crawley.

Only, it was the wrong one.

"Edith?" He asked, trying to conceal his disappointment. "What are you doing here?"

"How are you, Matthew?" Edith smiled meekly at him, ignoring his question, her cheeks flushing. Mary had always teased him about Edith harbouring a secret desire for him and he'd never believed her, although her current demeanour corroborated with Mary's words.

"Fine, thanks." Matthew smiled back. "How are you?"

"I'm great!" Edith said enthusiastically. "And you?"

"Erm…I'm fine..." Matthew repeated politely.

"Oh, yes, sorry-" Edith batted the air with her hand, as if batting away her own awkwardness. She laughed breathily but her whole face had turned red.

"Don't apologise, it's nice to know that people are concerned about my welfare." Matthew joked, hoping to make Edith less embarrassed. She giggled, looking down bashfully. In spite of everything Mary said about her, she was a sweet, smart girl and, from what he could see, she was wholly overlooked by their parents and social circle. Edith had had a particularly hard time during school, permanently in her older sister's shadow (having joined the sixth form one year after Mary) and earning the nickname 'Insipid Edith', which was cruelly espoused (and, Matthew suspected, invented) by Mary herself. Consequently, he had tried throughout his final year of school to champion her and defend her against the bullies - Mary included - and the two had kept in touch via Facebook and text messages since then. He wouldn't say they were good friends, and their communications usually stemmed from Edith's initiative, but he found her to be a pleasant young woman.

"So, are you here visiting Mary?" Matthew asked interestedly, trying to steer the conversation back to his original question.

Edith's smile faded at the mention of her nemesis. "Well, I _was_ - I came down with Mum to pick her up, but decided to stick around in London for a few more hours, even though I don't really have any plans..." she explained, giving him a pointed look. "I'll get a train back this evening, before dinner."

Matthew frowned. What did Edith mean by she 'was' visiting Mary? And that her mother had 'picked her up'? Term wasn't officially over until tomorrow. "Sorry, I'm not sure I understand." He said. "Has Mary gone back home?"

"Yes..." now Edith was frowning too. "Did she not tell you? She told Anna and her other friends." Matthew shook his head slowly, his confusion growing exponentially."She called us late last night and said she wanted to go home today instead of tomorrow. I'm not really sure what happened to cause such a rush to leave, but you know Mary - she gets whatever she asks for." She finished bitterly.

Matthew remained in deep thought, barely hearing the end of Edith's sentence.

"Anyway," Edith continued with a cheerier voice, "I have a few hours to spare - do you want to grab lunch somewhere? Then perhaps we can visit the new medieval manuscript exhibition in the British Museum?" She asked eagerly.

Matthew smiled apologetically. "That sounds lovely, but I'm afraid I have some work to finish off. Plus, I still need to tackle packing. I think the exhibition is running for a while, though, so maybe we can go next term?" Edith had always shared his interest in historical artefacts, making them both a target of Mary's unforgiving jokes. Strangely, though, despite her enthusiasm to accompany him on a few museum and church visits, whenever Edith joined him it always transpired that she knew much less about the subject matter than she'd let on…

"Oh, alright." Edith masked her disappointment with a small smile, wondering what on Earth she was going to do with her five hours in London before her train departed. Maybe it hadn't been very clever to buy her train ticket in advance of finding Matthew.

"Speaking of work, I should probably get back to it." Matthew said. "It was good to see you, and have a wonderful Christmas if I don't speak to you before then."

Edith blushed again. "Thanks, Matthew. You too." Matthew smiled and nodded in thanks and took a step forward, towards the door. Edith, presumably misinterpreting his movements, half-lifted her arms and then awkwardly put them down again when she realised he hadn't been going in for a hug. Matthew really didn't know how Mary could be so mean to her - she was like a helpless little lamb! Mary could be unkind, sometimes.

_Yes, Mary could be terribly unkind_, Matthew thought as he returned to his room. How could she leave like that, without letting him know? There can't have been a family emergency or anything of that sort, or else Edith wouldn't be here and she would have mentioned it. Towards the end of their first year, once they'd gotten to know each other a bit, Mary had always said goodbye to him before heading back to Yorkshire for the holidays, or even before going on vacation in the middle of term. And now, after all the events of the last couple of weeks that had made them closer than they'd ever been, she takes off without so much as a text message!

What was it that Edith had said? _'I'm not sure what happened to cause such a rush'_...Well, the only thing that happened that night was them getting together again. Wait - was that what the problem was?

He took a seat and ran chronologically through the previous day in his mind. She had seemed fine all day - a little strange at times and maybe a bit quieter than usual, but she regularly fell into bad moods, and with exam results imminent she would have been stressed, so he didn't think he should read too much into that. On the whole, then, she had behaved perfectly normally all day, bickering and baiting him as usual. But at some point late last night, she had decided to go home early.

When she hadn't shown up in lectures, Matthew had presumed that his text message was what had scared her off. Now he knew that it couldn't have been, because she had already decided to leave by then. The only thing in between her playfully arguing with him and deciding to go home without telling him was them having intercourse against the kitchen door.

Is that what had angered her?

She hadn't seemed upset afterwards, but there hadn't been much time to gauge her emotions; Mary's burnt beef, which had remained on a low flame throughout their little session, had set the fire alarm off and the fire warden for their accommodation block had hurried over a few minutes later, giving them only just enough time to adjust their clothing and pat down their hair. They had then been advised to evacuate the kitchen, and Mary had told him that she was going to pop outside to get a takeaway. Before parting, Matthew had made a joke about how it was probably their sordid antics that had set off the fire alarm rather than the beef.

Had that joke offended her? Had she felt that he was trivialising what they'd done, like it was all a bit of fun for him?

Much to Matthew's horror, it was all starting to make sense. After he'd first asked her out on a date, she'd felt like he was taking things too seriously. Now, however, she must be feeling like he was going too far in the other direction, by taking advantage of her, using her for her sexual prowess. He remembered with a sinking feeling in his stomach that it had been him who had initiated everything last night. She had been a willing participant - he hadn't forced her or anything - but he wondered whether she'd felt slightly pressurised into it in the face of his rampant enthusiasm. He'd thought she had sounded shocked when he'd backed her up against the kitchen door, but now when he replayed the scene in his mind, she had actually sounded absolutely horrified. And he had still gone through with it. And then made an uncouth joke about it. He hadn't even walked her to the takeaway place like a gentleman. Oh God, he was a terrible person. He wouldn't be surprised if she hated his guts.

Just as Matthew lay his head down on his desk in despair, a small ray of light shone through the bleakness - she had texted him this morning, unprompted. If he had entirely lost her respect, she wouldn't have messaged him at all. So maybe he still had a chance.

Although he probably ruined that chance by asking her to _celebrate tonight_. She must have construed it as a pre-emptive booty call.

Matthew lay his head back onto the desk.

...

"Did you enjoy your meal, Mr Grumpy-pants?" Aunt Miriam called across the table cheerily, sparking irritating sniggers around the room. His family was quite small - a couple of childless aunts on his mother's side and their husbands, and a male cousin of his father's. The intimacy of their Christmas Day meals usually heightened the enjoyment; however, as Matthew was discovering today, it could also be very annoying.

"I hope your mood improves before pudding!" Isobel said over her shoulder as she carried plates back to the kitchen.

_I am allowed to be grumpy_, Matthew thought to himself. _It may be Christmas Day, but it's pelting down with rain outside, I have to spend the rest of the day getting my hair neatened and cheeks pinched by overprotective aunts, and the girl I'm infatuated with thinks I'm a misogynistic bastard. I am definitely allowed to be grumpy_.

Excusing himself to go to the bathroom before the uncles began grilling him about his love life, Matthew went upstairs. He retrieved his phone from his room and plopped down on his bed with a sigh. There were a couple of text messages from Tom, complaining about his family being too raucous and easily agitated (Matthew was aware that Tom had a younger brother who enjoyed riling everyone else up by disparaging trade unions and the NHS). Matthew replied with his sympathies.

Then there were the standard-form, holiday season messages from people he hardly knew anymore because they'd sent a blanket text to everyone in their contact list. Amongst them, there was a message from Edith.

_Merry Christmas, Matthew! I hope you are having a splendid day. How are your holidays going? Mine are as usual. If you happen to be near Downton at any point then let me know - you'd be more than welcome to visit! Xx_

_It's nice of Edith to send personalised messages to everyone she knows_, Matthew thought. _Must be quite time-consuming, though_. Maybe she was trying to escape her family too. The Crawleys had a reputation for being a rather formidable family. The bargain surrounding Mary's position at university attested to that. With a smirk, he wondered what Christmas Day was like at their house. He read Edith's message again. She had invited him over. Was it a proper invitation, though? Given the misunderstandings and subsequent volatility of his relationship with Mary recently, he wanted to make sure of her meaning before considering acting on it.

_Thanks, Edith - same to you! Holidays are fine, but I'm actually ready to escape the house for a bit. Are you sure I'd be welcome to visit you? I wouldn't want to impose. I haven't been to Downton before but I've heard that it's beautiful._

The speed with which he received a response startled him.

_Of course! It'd be great to have you over! Just let me know when. Anytime before New Year is fine. And you wouldn't be imposing at all - Mary is having a boy come over to see her so you won't be the only visitor anyway. Xx_

Having skimmed through the message as his mother beckoned him downstairs for dessert, Matthew had almost missed the last part of the text. His eyes settled on the word 'boy', and then widened as he re-read the sentence.

She was having a _boy_ come over to see her?!

Matthew remained seated on his bed, staring at his phone, brow creased and mouth hanging open. Had any of the last two weeks of term actually happened?! Because it was beginning to seem like he was just an acquaintance of Mary who creeped her out by asking her on dates while she was being courted by other young men.

Deaf to the repeated complaints of his relatives downstairs, who were keen to light the Christmas pudding, Matthew searched for possible explanations. Maybe this 'boy' was an actual boy? Like a young cousin who liked Pokemon and Harry Potter? Or maybe Mary was doing some volunteering work and this was one of the youths she was mentoring?

Immediately realising that both those explanations were ridiculous (a cousin would visit the whole family rather than just her and the day Mary Crawley does volunteering work is the day that Tom Branson denies his Irish heritage), Matthew bit his lip with worry. Of course Mary would have multiple suitors running after her - she was absolutely gorgeous, and her liaisons with Matthew wouldn't stop her pursuing other options, especially after Matthew had given her the wrong impression about his motives.

Nevertheless, the frustration at his own foolish behaviour and the immense jealousy he felt of this other boy led him to decide that he needed to do something. Something romantic, something bold.

Glancing at his phone again, he knew just what that would be.

…

_A/N: as always, please let me know what you think! Sorry there was no real M/M interaction in this chapter, but the next one will be full of it! xxx_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!_

_Oh wait, no, it's not actually Christmas. But this chapter takes place just after Christmas so I feel all confused. Anyway, thanks SO much for all your reviews, I can't believe how many people enjoy this story given that it's silly and not very deep. It has spurred me on to knock out another chapter, and this is officially the longest chapter I have ever written! That doesn't necessarily mean that it's good, though…but I hope you enjoy at least some of it! Xxx ps I have taken some creative licence with the character of Sybil, as you will find out…_

…

The bell to the main door of Downton Abbey sounded.

"Who's that?" Mary looked away from the television, the remote control hanging limply from her hand, to her mother. "Are we expecting someone else?" Her guest had already arrived that morning, just after breakfast, and was currently being taken on a tour of the large house by her father.

"Didn't Edith tell you?" Cora asked, surprised. "She has someone visiting, too."

Mary span round to her eighteen-year-old sister, who was standing at the other end of the room, looking coy and smoothing her hands down over her ugly skirt. "Who?" Mary demanded.

"You'll see." Edith said with a smirk. "You know him." She said cryptically, before hurrying out of the room towards the main entrance hall, their mother following behind.

Their mutual friends quickly flitted through Mary's mind – there were only a few potential candidates, and she couldn't understand why Edith would look so pleased about any of them. Perhaps she had been neglected by boys for so long that Edith's standards had been lowered such that any male human would suffice. She got up and traced her sister's and mother's footsteps to the main hall, where Carson was just opening the large oak door before standing off to the side, out of sight, as he always did.

Peering around her father's shoulder, Mary was keen to see who this mysterious guest was. _Probably some total loser who-_

She saw his eyes first.

Nobody else had those eyes.

But it couldn't be – why, how, what the hell would Matthew Crawley be doing here? In her _house_?

He looked up and caught her eye. He smiled at her, with a short nod and polite "hello". Mary's mouth went dry. Was this really happening? Matthew Crawley. In her house. During the Christmas holidays. It made no sense.

And he was here as _Edith's_ guest? She had almost forgotten that part. Why was he here on Edith's invitation? They hardly spoke to each other aside from the occasional boring text about stained glass windows.

Unless – was there something going on between them that Mary didn't know about? No, that can't be right. She and Matthew had had a series of lust-filled encounters in the last week of term, and it had only been a fortnight since then. There simply hadn't been enough time for he and Edith to develop feelings for each other. He must just be here as a friend. He'd _better_ just be here as a friend.

However, that still didn't explain why he would travel all the way here to see Edith without even mentioning it to her.

If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that Edith and Matthew had a _lot_ of explaining to do.

Edith galloped towards him. "Matthew! Hello! Come in!" She made accepting her own invitation difficult by practically launching herself on him and enveloping him in a hug. Mary saw her parents raise their eyebrows at each other light-heartedly. It wasn't like Edith to be so 'forward' with boys – she had never tried to hug one like this before. Although it wasn't like Edith to have boys pay her any attention at all, frankly, so any attempts at physical affection on her part would likely be classified as assault.

Matthew uttered thanks and smiled, gently patting her on the back. Mary tried to ascertain his demeanour. Did he look _happy_ to see Edith? His greeting seemed platonic, but it could be that he was embarrassed to fully embrace her when her entire family were watching them intently. Oh God, this whole day was going to be a nightmare.

"How was your journey?" Edith asked once she'd stepped away from him slightly.

"Great, thanks – the train was slightly delayed, though, so I must be a little late-" Matthew began to say apologetically.

"No, not at all!" Edith shook her head vigorously.

"Your house is absolutely beautiful." Matthew addressed the group sincerely and they smiled back graciously. Mary's expression, however, was set in what felt like a permanent scowl. She was trying to balance her anger at both her sister and her – friend? lover? – with her attempts to wrap her head around this thoroughly surreal situation.

"These are my parents, Robert and Cora." Edith gestured to their parents, and Matthew shook both their hands. They both seemed so pleased to meet him, much to Mary's displeasure. They were obviously wondering how on Earth Edith had managed to secure someone so handsome and polite, given that she was plain and a total cow. _Alright, maybe they don't think that badly of their own daughter, but they are bound to think that she's punching above her own weight_. "And this is my little sister, Sybil." Matthew smiled warmly at the ten-year-old girl who waved happily at him from her mother's side.

Mary was growing annoyed by Edith's self-centred introductions. '_My_ parents, _my_ little sister' – they were hers, too! The attention of the room was on Edith and her visitor – who Mary knew _far_ better than Edith ever had, thank you very much – and Mary did not like it one bit. She'd had almost 20 years commanding the full attention of every space she occupied and she was not about to relinquish it, especially not in favour of these two traitors.

"And this," Edith said reluctantly, glancing disapprovingly at the other youth in the room, "is _Mary's_ 'friend'." Quite why Edith had to emphasise that he was there on Mary's account, and why she said 'friend' so dubiously, Mary was not sure, but she could only presume that Edith was attempting to disparage her.

"Gideon Burgess-Wainwright." The refined tones of the newcomer addressed Matthew, grabbing hold of his hand in a firm shake.

"Matthew Crawley." Matthew replied uncertainly, not accustomed to simply reciting his full name at people upon first meeting them.

From Mary's vantage point, the two young men greeting each other was an interesting sight to behold. Gideon was taller and broader, and his brown hair was dramatically swept over to the side, in a kind of reckless yet coiffed manner. His polo shirt, cable-knit waistcoat and pressed chinos suggested he was about to attend some sort of winter polo match. Matthew, by contrast, looked much younger with his slightly mussed blonde hair, rounder-face and sparkling eyes, dressed in a simple casual jumper and jeans.

"I brought you something – a small token of my appreciation for having me over." Matthew said, handing something over to Cora. Mary caught a glimpse of what it was and almost snorted. It was a little house-plant in a plastic pot. There weren't even any flowers in it and a couple of the leaves looked dry. "And these are just some chocolates." He said modestly, producing a box of about eight milk chocolates.

"Oh goody, we might even get one chocolate each." Mary said drolly, satisfied when Matthew looked embarrassed. It felt poignant that the first thing she'd said in his presence since their sexual encounter was a cutting remark directed at his frugality. She was happy with how things had panned out in that respect.

"Mary," Robert said warningly. He looked to Matthew and smiled. "You really didn't need to bring us anything."

"I wanted to get something a bit nicer but most of the shops hardly have any stock left after Christmas." Matthew smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, no, this is quite…lovely," Cora said, kindly but not entirely genuinely.

"Maybe you should have gone to the shop that Gideon went to." Mary said pointedly, trying to get a reaction out of Matthew. He couldn't just waltz into her house and act the hero, romancing her sister and taking pride in bestowing rationed sweets and decaying house-plants to her parents.

"He brought us a Christmas tree!" Sybil exclaimed excitedly.

"A Christmas tree?" Matthew repeated incredulously.

"Yes, you know – it's a tree that people display in their house, typically around Christmas time." Mary said sarcastically, growing frustrated when Matthew ignored her. She'd just have to try harder to bait him, it seemed.

"Gideon was so kind as to have one brought over for us this morning. We put it up in the dining room and Sybil decorated it ever so beautifully, didn't you, darling?" Cora stroked Sybil's hair tenderly.

"It wasn't any trouble," Gideon declared proudly, "I just had one of the men deliver it straight to the house. They put up a fuss about driving so far but, as always, the problem disappeared once I offered a generous tip! Typical, isn't it?" He guffawed, entertained by this apparently hilarious piece of observational humour. Mary focused all her energy into producing a convincing laugh, but inside she was recoiling. This man was positively, tear-inducingly dull. And he'd thought it appropriate to give them a seven-foot tall Christmas tree on the 29th of December.

"Indeed." Robert said genially, although Mary suspected that this admission to regular bribery did not go down well with her father. "Anyway, we should be having lunch soon, so why don't we take a seat until then?" He gestured to the doorway to the living room, which housed plush sofas and large flower arrangements, and the group seated themselves, falling into polite conversation about Christmas and the weather.

Mary periodically stole discreet glances at Matthew while he spoke to Edith, who was next to him on another sofa, until he caught her eye when he looked up. She then determinedly avoided looking anywhere near him and focussed her attention on what her mother and Gideon were discussing. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of having her attention after he'd been liaising with her sister behind her back, a mere fortnight after asking Mary out for the second time. What exactly was he playing at?

She'd been sure that she'd felt something between them during their most recent rendez-vous. In some ways, it had been rougher and more animalistic than their previous encounters – they had been in a dirty student kitchen, after all, and she still had faint bruises on her hips and upper thighs where Matthew's fingers had embedded themselves – but she had detected something, something _different_, in his behaviour. Their physical actions that evening had suggested pure lust and passion, but there had been an undercurrent to it that hadn't been there before. The way he'd kissed her and looked at her as they'd hurtled towards their simultaneous climax was new to her…it had almost been _caring_. Like he'd wanted to make sure she was alright, that he was pleasing her – as if, in that moment, she mattered more to him than anyone else.

It had terrified her. Later, when she'd made her excuses and returned to her room to reflect on the situation, it had confused her.

How could he possibly feel anything deep for her? She deliberately kept herself mysterious, kept her guard up. He barely knew anything about her beyond her tastes in superficial things and the list of people who irk her (well, he probably didn't know the _entire_ list – it was growing exponentially and even she found it difficult to keep up with, but he had a general idea, at least). It was perfectly understandable that he'd want to be in her company and that he'd lust after her; their conversations were entertaining, albeit irritating at times, and she knew she was a beauty. But she couldn't comprehend why he would want to commit to her in any way. Eventually, she'd settled on an explanation; he must believe her to possess qualities that she simply didn't have. He must presume that she was like all the other girls he knew, who fawned over the objects of their affection just as Edith was doing to him now, who were willing to open themselves up to him and hold his hand in public and invent an affectionate nickname for him. He must presume that she had a large, caring heart and that she could help create a relationship full of love and contentment. He didn't realise that there was no 'other layer' to Mary Crawley. She was all witty comments, good looks and social graces. And she'd push you away if you tried to hug her.

In order to escape the potential hurt and embarrassment of him finding this out for himself, Mary once again decided to nip any relationship attempts in the bud, by turning him down for a second time. When she had received his text just after they'd received their mock exam results, she had already decided to travel home early; she couldn't see him so soon after their encounter in the kitchen. Despite her efforts to avoid him the first time round, he'd managed to arouse and seduce her in a way that she had never been before. It had therefore been imperative for her to completely shut him out, to get some distance, with the idea that, once they returned to London in the New Year to start a new term, _both_ of their passions would have subsided. Three weeks was enough to get over a crush, wasn't it?

Mary still wasn't sure if three weeks was enough to get over a crush, but she now knew for certain that two weeks was not enough. As puzzled and angered by his behaviour as she was, she couldn't help but stare at him and wonder if he was going to speak to her. She was craving his attention when she should be shunning it, and that only infuriated her more.

"Yes, well, you know my parents are very well acquainted with the Hamilton-Turners." Gideon said loudly, drawing Mary's - and everyone's - attention back to him. "Along with the Osbornes, of course. They frequently stay at our holiday home on the Isle of..."

Gideon's self-assured drone faded as Mary noticed Edith get up and walk over to the drink's cabinet, no doubt to fetch Matthew some orange juice or whatever other bland beverage he had requested. At least Gideon drank proper drinks.

She rose and also strode over, feeling a pair of male eyes watching her but not sure to whom they belonged. "So how is your ploy to bag an unsuspecting boyfriend going?" Mary murmured once she'd reached Edith.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Edith replied huffily.

"Oh please," Mary scoffed. "You couldn't find your own boy to prey on so you decided to steal one of mine!" She hissed. "You could have at least asked me first rather than sneaking around behind my back!"

Edith looked at her incredulously. "'One of _yours_'? You don't even get along with him! I barely hear you mention him other than to mock his intelligence and his hobbies. Don't tell me you like him?" She said sarcastically.

"Of course not!" Mary would never admit to liking someone who was so clearly shunning her.

"Or are you just jealous that he's spent a year and a half living in your proximity and hasn't fallen for you, yet all it took was one text from me and he's come running over here? Yes, I think that must be it." She said smugly, finishing her sentence with a self-satisfied nod.

"Don't be ridiculous-" Mary began, although she didn't have an argument ready to refute her sister's allegations. Was that what was bothering her? She thought she'd been annoyed at Matthew being rude enough to turn up at her house as a guest of her sister's, but was she actually just disappointed that he didn't like her as much as she'd thought (or, more accurately, feared)?

"What are you girls doing over there? You are neglecting your guests!" Robert called over jokingly.

Edith merrily skipped back to the group with two glasses of pressed apple juice (he was even more lame than Mary had imagined), leaving Mary to sulk on her own for a minute. Maybe Matthew had been using her this whole time just to get closer to Edith? It was unlikely, but she didn't know what to think anymore. And now Edith was the belle of the ball, glowing and complacent. Mary sighed roughly. She hated them both.

"I believe lunch is ready." Cora announced to the room after having checked progress in the kitchen. "The dining room is just through there; feel free to bring your drinks, boys." Everybody rose to proceed to the next room.

"Have you ever been to Italy, Matthew?" Sybil asked him curiously as they walked.

"No, I haven't. I've heard it's nice, though. Have you been?" Matthew smiled down at her.

"No, but I'd love to go! Gideon said he goes at least once a year!"

"Did he?" Matthew asked as they entered the dining room. Mary couldn't tell if his tone was sceptical or bitter.

"Yes - didn't you hear him talk about his house in Sicily?" Mary said with exaggerated dreaminess in her tone.

"Is that what he was saying?" Matthew asked disinterestedly. "I couldn't understand him properly – he sounds like he's got something permanently stuck up his nose." Sybil erupted into a fit of giggles and Matthew grinned at her. All Mary could do was glower at him as they took their seats around the dining table.

Edith had saved Matthew a seat right next to her. Mary and Gideon ended up sat directly opposite them.

"Thank you, Carson." Cora smiled as the butler set down a platter of sandwiches on the table.

At the mention of this name, Matthew's head perked up. He stood up and turned to the middle-aged, uniformed man with a broad smile. "I'm Matthew!" He said. Carson merely looked at him blankly. "I went to school with Mary and Edith and now I'm at university with Mary. I've heard so much about you." He continued, and Mary rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm. She'd casually mentioned Carson to Matthew four or five times, maximum. "It's great to meet you." He held his hand out. Mary had to bite back a laugh at poor Carson's astonished face – nobody ever introduced themselves to the butler and offered to shake his hand!

Regaining his composure, Carson remained standing straight with his hands behind his back. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." He bowed his head gracefully.

Mary's suppressed laughter intensified at the sight of Matthew's bemused expression. She doubted anyone had ever called him 'sir' before, let alone a grown man. He retracted his outstretched hand and smiled awkwardly, clearly unused to the formal tone adopted by Carson.

"We thought we'd have an informal lunch, so please help yourselves." Cora gestured to the various large silver dishes that were now arranged on the table, displaying an array of freshly-made sandwiches, hot mini-quiches and small pies. A quick glance at Matthew's startled expression told Mary that this was far from what he'd call 'informal'.

"So, Matthew, you live near Mary in halls." Robert stated after a couple of minutes. "Is she behaving well over there? She's not doing anything her grandmother wouldn't like, is she?" He laughed lightly.

Mary noticed Matthew swallow his mouthful of food rather uncomfortably. "No, she's, er - very well-behaved." Matthew smiled tightly. Mary tried desperately to suppress the flush that threatened to engulf her face. She doubted Matthew had ever told a greater lie in his life.

"And she's attending all her lectures and everything?" Robert continued.

"Dad," Mary implored him to stop.

"Now, now, Mary, you must let me have this. It's not every day that I get to meet a friend of yours who has his head screwed on straight." Robert replied. Gideon looked thoroughly offended.

"Yes, she has been attending lectures." Matthew replied vaguely. Mary prayed that this would be the end of the conversation but Matthew kept on talking. "She did marvellously in her mock, too. I don't know if she told you but she got the third highest mark in the year. Our lecturer even singled out one of her essays as being elegantly written. Everyone wishes they were as bright as her." He said genuinely, and Robert looked to Mary with a mixture of astonishment and pride.

"Is that right? Well, it's not like Mary to be modest but she didn't mention all of that to us." He beamed.

"Well done, darling. Third highest in the year!" Cora gushed.

Mary merely smiled, her cheeks blushing at the praise - she was unaccustomed to receiving praise for her academic prowess. She couldn't help but be grateful to Matthew for what he said. After what had passed between them, he could have easily put her in an awkward position by revealing her laziness and how he'd had to help her get her act back together, but he didn't. He'd actually embellished her achievement and made it sound more significant than it was. She debated giving him a grateful smile, but decided against it - he wasn't going to be let out of her bad books that easily.

"What did you get for Christmas?" Matthew turned to Sybil, who was sat on the other side of him to Edith.

Mary smiled to herself as Sybil set her fork down and turned to face Matthew properly before reeling off her list. "Mummy and Daddy got me a book about history and a new winter coat-"

"What's it like?" Matthew asked.

"It's about the nineteenth century and how the monarchy became less powerful and-"

"He meant the coat, darling." Mary said affectionately.

"Oh," said Sybil, "erm, it's purple and has big buttons."

"That sounds lovely. And you'll have to show me your book later. I quite like the nineteenth century." Matthew said genially. "England had a very fat king during that time – George IV."

Sybil giggled. "Yes, there's a picture of him on the front of it. I'll show it to you later!"

"Tell him what you got from me, Sybil!" Edith interjected. Mary rolled her eyes at her desperate attempts to re-capture Matthew's attention.

"Edith got me a geometry set." Sybil told Matthew. "It comes with a compass and a protractor and all these cards that you can cut out and make into different shapes. One of them is a dodecahedron – it has twelve faces!"

"Twelve faces? That's only ten more than Edith." Mary said.

"Mary." Robert said warningly. Mary shrugged and picked at her food. She could feel Edith throwing daggers at her and, if she wasn't mistaken, out of the corner of her eye she could see Matthew stifle a laugh.

"My Granny sent me an antique hairpin, which is alright, I guess." Sybil said nonchalantly.

"Sybil, dear, that hairpin once belonged to the wife of the Duke of Northumberland!" Robert said, chuckling at his youngest daughter's indifference to such a fine piece of jewellery.

"I think my parents know her." Gideon said impressively.

"She died in about 1800, so I doubt that." Edith replied cuttingly.

"What university do you go to, again?" Gideon asked, as if needing this information before deciding whether it was worth engaging in a conversation with her.

"And what did Mary get you?" Matthew cut over Gideon.

Mary looked up sharply upon hearing Matthew's question. Why did he care? No doubt he wanted to repay her for her earlier jibes and was hoping he could make fun of whatever she'd bought for Sybil. What a prick.

"Mary got me the best present of all!" Sybil said excitedly. "She got me a typewriter!"

"Wow!" Mary almost laughed at how wide Matthew's eyes grew – he was clearly exaggerating his response in order to match Sybil's excitement.

"It's from the 1920s. Mary says that it was an important time for women who wanted to become more independent, and all most of them had was their own brain and a typewriter." Sybil said very seriously. "I like writing so she thinks it will be useful to me. And it's _beautiful_!" She emphasised.

Mary smiled at her little sister adoringly, before noticing that Matthew was directing a similar look at herself. She held his gaze for a few moments – it was difficult not to. His eyes were at their bluest, and were looking at her with such admiration that she felt her stomach flutter and her pulse quicken. As soon as she was able to, however, she tore her eyes away from his and continued eating. It wasn't his place to come in here and appraise her choice in Christmas presents for her family, even if he came to a favourable conclusion.

Soon, it was mid-afternoon and the soft clinks of spoons being set down on porcelain indicated that the Crawleys and their guests had finished their apple strudel. It was already growing dark outside and Carson had lit a lamp in the room.

"Did you have any plans for this afternoon?" Robert addressed the four undergraduates. "You could take a turn about the grounds, or we have plenty of board games if you fancy it."

Before anyone could answer, there was a sharp gasp from the side of the room. "Mummy, look!" Sybil was pressed up against one of the windows as if she was trying to transport herself through it. "It's snowing!" She exclaimed gleefully.

The group either peered over or stood up to see. "Oh my goodness, look, Robert!" Cora said, moving to stand behind Sybil. The vast grounds were already covered by a sheet of pure white snow and it was growing deeper by the minute. Large snowflakes were falling thick and fast.

"Can I go and play in the snow?" Sybil asked eagerly.

The moment this question was asked, Mary's insides sank. She knew how this was going to go. It was the same every year. Her mother would insist that Sybil cannot go outside unaccompanied in such weather. She would then ask Mary and Edith to go outside with her – usually, Mary wouldn't mind this, as she could quite happily perch herself on a bench and watch Sybil and Edith build a snowman or hit each other with snowballs (they both knew better than to try to hit her). But now, Matthew and Gideon were there, so they would inevitably be roped in too. This meant spending more time with Matthew, who she was still trying to ignore, and Gideon, who quite simply epitomised everything she'd been yearning to run away from.

Annoyingly, rather than declaring that he had imposed on their hospitality enough and really should be getting back home, as Mary felt he should have, Matthew enthusiastically agreed to help Sybil with her snowman. Gideon, on the other hand, tried to back out of it and suggested that he would like to spend some time with Mary 'in the room with the chaise longue' – she wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind but she didn't particularly want to find out.

Thirty minutes later, then, she found herself venturing outside into the grounds with her sisters and the boys. They were all padded out with thick coats, scarves, hats and gloves. Matthew didn't have any suitable shoes so Robert had let him borrow some boots, while the others wore Wellingtons or similar.

"I know – we should have a contest to see who can build the best snowman. Let's split into pairs and compete against each other!" Sybil suggested excitedly.

"We can't do that." Gideon said bluntly. "There are five of us. I would have guessed that ten year olds should know their two times tables." He deadpanned.

Matthew narrowed his eyes at Gideon before turning to a crestfallen Sybil. "That's alright – one of us can be the judge." He smiled when Sybil's eyes lit up again.

"Great idea – I'll be the judge." Gideon announced before anyone else had a chance to discuss it. "Someone come and get me when you're finished." He said, promptly walking back towards the warmth of the house. Matthew caught Mary staring at his retreating back with disdain.

Realising that Matthew was watching her, she quickly schooled her expression into a placid smile and called out after Gideon, "Alright, I'll come and get you soon!"

"I want to be with Matthew." Sybil announced, linking her arm through Matthew's.

Edith emitted a sound of disappointment, as she'd wanted to be paired with Matthew, and Mary emitted a sound of frustration, as she'd wanted to be paired with Sybil.

"I think we'll give them a rather good thrashing, won't we?" Matthew said arrogantly, and Sybil laughed in response. "Don't worry, we'll try to give you a chance." He said, addressing Edith and Mary. Mary merely scoffed as the teams set about gathering up some snow.

Sybil told Matthew that she wanted to make a snowwoman, rather than a snowman, and Matthew promptly came up with suggestions on how to proceed. Mary and Edith, meanwhile, immediately began arguing over whether they should make a traditional snowman or opt for a more challenging design. Naturally, the competitive side of Mary emerged and she suggested a swan, as this would be sure to outshine a snowwoman, but this was swiftly rejected by Edith. After muttering something about being spineless and dull, Mary grudgingly helped her assemble the base.

"Look, Sybil, I think they are trying to make a dog or…an armadillo or something." Matthew said drolly after about ten minutes, pointing to the shapeless pile of snow at Mary's feet. Mary was tempted to make a remark about how it was actually Matthew's mother on whom their creation was based, but she felt such a comment was inappropriate in front of her youngest sister and managed to bite her tongue.

Matthew may have been infuriating her, but he was being positively wonderful with Sybil. He was kind without being patronising, and playful without being too rough. He picked her up so that she could reach the top of the snowwoman, then set her down so that she could collect more snow, and dutifully repeated the process over and over until he had to bashfully admit that his back was aching. Quickly erasing thoughts of giving him a massage as he lay bare-bodied beneath her, Mary turned her attention to hers and Edith's disaster of a snowman.

After much exemplary team-work from Matthew and Sybil, and much bickering from Mary and Edith ("You've just trampled on the twigs we were going to use for arms, Edith!" "Maybe you shouldn't have left it there!" "Maybe if you had less manly feet this wouldn't have happened." "Oh, shut up.") the two pairs stood back and appraised their completed work. While it wasn't as tall as the snowwoman, and wasn't wearing a snow-dress, Mary was quite proud of what she'd managed to salvage from the catastrophe that Edith had turned out. Sybil hurriedly ran in to the house to fetch Gideon, their judge, who returned looking very dismal indeed. Apparently he felt like he'd been abandoned for an hour. Mary couldn't give two stuffs.

She did give two stuffs, however, when Gideon promptly decided that her snow creation lost the competition. Matthew and Sybil laughed and hugged, Edith tried to join in with the hug but failed, and Gideon looked bewildered at how anybody could enjoy snow so much without it involving skiing in an expensive resort in Switzerland.

"Commiserations." Matthew walked over to where Mary was stood, his hand outstretched. She glared at it.

"He only said we lost because he's annoyed with me for not spending time with him." She said defensively, folding her arms.

Matthew raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I think he said you lost because your snowman looks like it's been run over and then left out in the sun for a while." At Mary's aghast expression, he laughed. "Why are you being so competitive about this?"

"I'm not being competitive." Mary huffed. "This is about fairness."

"What's going on?" Edith asked.

"Mary's being bitter." He smiled, obviously taking great pleasure in her irritation. "I think we should cheer her up, don't you? What were you telling me earlier, Sybil?" He asked rhetorically. "Didn't you say that Mary loves snowball fights?" He bent down and took a fistful of snow in his palm, looking up at her with mischief in his eyes.

"Don't you dare." She warned, taking a step backwards. But her protestations were futile – a snowball slammed into the side of her head, coating her hair in cold, wet ice. Thankfully she'd managed to turn her head to the side quickly enough to avoid getting snow lodged up her nose. "Argh!" She screamed. Matthew and Sybil laughed delightedly and Edith looked joyous at her embarrassment. Even Gideon was guffawing. "Right, if that's how you want to play it…" She said determinedly, bending down and digging both hands into the snow. She flung one handful at Matthew and the other at Edith, but both failed to reach their target and the mass of snow disintegrated almost as soon as it left her hands. This only intensified the laughter, much to her annoyance.

"You need to compress the snow a bit more." Matthew advised. He seemed to be sincere rather than condescending, but his guidance was unwelcome nonetheless.

"I know how to make snowballs, thank you." Mary replied testily, reaching down to make more.

Soon, the entire group was engaged in a rather aggressive snowball fight. Gideon was initially indignant at having his nice gilet dampened by a large snowball from Edith, but he soon overcame his stuffiness and joined in heartily. The group used trees and benches to duck behind so as to avoid being seen and choose their targets, making it a sort of hide-and-seek game. Mary's snow-based weapons grew denser and larger as the fight progressed, and she made sure to only aim at Edith and Matthew, the former of whom gave back as good as she got. Matthew, however, seemed to be holding back. It made sense that he was being careful with Sybil, who was smaller and weaker, but there was no excuse for him to treat Mary as if she was a frail octogenarian.

"Come on, hit me properly!" She goaded him. "Or is that the best you've got?" She stood a few feet in front of him, modelling a snowball the size of a football in her hands.

Matthew merely looked at her and shook his head dismissively.

"What?" She persisted. "Are you afraid that you'll try your best and you'll still lose to me? Are you hoping that you can hide behind the excuse of 'oh well I didn't really _try_ to win, because she's just a girl, so it's alright that I lost'? Why don't you stop being a wimp and-ahhh!" Mary's diatribe was cut short by Matthew swooping down and throwing her over his shoulder. "Put me _down_!" She screamed, bouncing on his shoulder as he marched off. She could hear raucous laughter behind her from the others. "Matthew Crawley-"

"This was the only way I could think to shut you up!" Matthew called to her. He moved her so that he was carrying her fireman-style, and she was finally able to see where they were. They'd reached one edge of the grounds, where there was a pond. The cold weather had formed a thin sheet of ice over the surface, but it would easily crack if any weight was placed on it. Unmitigated terror flowed through her veins as she realised what Matthew was up to.

He stood right in front of the pond so that it was directly under her body, which was firmly held in his arms. He had a tight grip on her, and she had wrapped her arms around his neck as securely as she possibly could. "You wouldn't really drop me in there." She said with false bravado. He wouldn't – would he? It must be absolutely freezing beneath the ice.

"Oh really?" Matthew said casually. He bent at the knees so quickly that it gave Mary the sensation of falling, and she shrieked as loudly as she'd ever shrieked in her whole life. Matthew laughed and more laughter echoed from across the grounds – her immense fear was obviously entertaining to her family and so-called friends. That was nice to know.

"Will you please just put me down?!" She shouted, curling herself into Matthew's chest more and tightening her grip around his neck.

"Who made the best snowman?" Matthew asked calmly.

"You're absolutely crazy!" Mary exclaimed. "You're risking my life for this?"

"Stop being dramatic." Matthew tutted, and before she could argue back he asked again, "who made the best snowman?"

Mary didn't answer immediately, trying to think of a way to get out of this situation without submitting to Matthew's blatant coercion. Every second of her hesitation, however, led Matthew to lower her further and further down towards the frozen pond. She gasped when she realised that she was only a foot above the fragile ice and what she considered to be – over-dramatically, perhaps – certain death.

"You!" She blurted out, panic evident in her voice.

"Me what?" Matthew asked, as calm as ever. He didn't even care that he had her life in his hands!

"You made the best snowman!" Mary cried out.

"And who would win in a snowball fight between me and you?" He asked.

"You, you knob!" Mary spat out at him, her blood boiling despite being covered in snow. "Now put me down!"

"That's not quite the answer that I was after, but I suppose it will do." Matthew laughed, still full of mirth. He took a few steps backwards, turned and gently set her down on the ground.

She wasted no time in whacking him in the chest as hard as she could. "What the hell is wrong with you, you dickhead?!" She yelled. "You could have had me killed, or hospitalised!"

They were soon joined by the others, who were totally unconcerned by Mary's near-death experience. They were chuckling and patting Matthew on the back for his hilarious idea. Gideon even congratulated him on 'executing it beautifully'. Mary was incensed. Their attempts at convincing her that she was in no real danger because the pond was only two feet deep, and Matthew's assurances that he would never have let her fall in the first place, fell on deaf ears. She resisted swearing at them all, only because of the presence of her little sister, and turned and strode back towards the house.

Shortly after Mary had re-entered the house and stormed upstairs to change out of her clothes, which were soaked from the snow, she could hear the rest of the youngsters approach the bedrooms. The doors to Edith's and Sybil's rooms shut in quick succession, and she heard Gideon go into the guest bedroom, stating that he had brought a change of clothes for dinner anyway. To her dismay (or was that little twitch inside her indicative of something else?), Mary heard her father's voice tell Matthew that he, as well as Gideon, must stay the night - all trains were cancelled because of the weather and it was too dangerous to try to travel back any other way. He also offered Matthew a change of clothes but Matthew politely declined and said he'd be alright for now.

When she went back downstairs, Mary found Sybil sat by the fire next to Matthew, showing him her presents. Edith was looking on longingly. Mary almost pitied her. She'd had a crush on Matthew for two years but Mary, and now their ten-year-old sister, were more successful at keeping his attention than she was.

A few minutes later, Gideon returned in another waistcoat – this time tweed and brass-buttoned – paired with a crisp sky-blue shirt and rather outlandish red trousers. Dark velvet carpet slippers set the look off. Mary couldn't tell if Matthew looked awe-struck, intrigued, or absolutely horrified by the ensemble.

Dinner passed without consequence. Mary could feel Matthew's eyes on her even though she was studiously avoiding his. She suspected that he wanted to ascertain whether she was still mad at him. The truth was, despite his terrifying little stunt earlier, his playfulness and ability to rile her up had made her feel more excited and alive than she'd felt since...well, their night in the kitchen. And, against all her will, she wanted more of it. _Damn you, Matthew Crawley_. Forcing herself to focus on all of his bad qualities, like the fact that he was currently holding his knife like a Neanderthal and showing Edith politeness, she ate her lamb chop.

When they left the dining room, the group dispersed. Sybil went to sit with Robert and Cora in the library while Edith and Matthew went to the living room to watch some television. Mary was stuck with Gideon in the music room, as he tried to impress her with mistake-ridden performances on the piano and violin, and tall tales of his celebrity acquaintances. After a little while, she managed to make her excuses and escape.

She was striding down the corridor towards the library to join her parents when she was stopped.

"Mary," she heard a whisper and felt a hand grasp her arm and tug her into an empty room. Looking up, she saw Matthew had pulled her into one of the unused parlours. It was a small room with a couple of plump armchairs, a table and tall French windows. The thick, red velvet curtains were not drawn so they had a good view of the snow which was still falling.

"What do you want?" She asked abruptly, quite uncomfortable at being alone with him in this cosy setting.

"I wanted to give you something." Matthew fished around in his trouser pocket and pulled out a small square of folded tissue paper.

"What is that?" Mary asked, trying to sound disdainful even though she was intrigued.

"A Christmas present." Matthew said simply, holding it out to her.  
Giving him a dubious look, she took it from him. He'd never bought her a present before, and Mary was curious as to what it would be. Would it be something romantic? Meaningful? Expensive? _Maybe he got my parents such crap gifts because he'd spent loads of money on me!_

Her movements in unwrapping the paper became increasingly greedy. Her eyes soon settled upon something small and silver and she quickly pulled it out.

Frowning, she placed it in the palm of her hand to examine it. It was a necklace, but the chain had gotten completely tangled up, probably after being jostled about in Matthew's trouser pocket all day, and the pendant was slightly tarnished. She looked at it disappointedly.

"They're scales." Matthew offered somewhat meekly.

She looked at the pendant more closely. They were indeed two scales. "What does that mean?" She asked. She supposed she should have said some sort of 'thank you' by now but she had no idea what she should be grateful for.

"Scales." Matthew repeated dumbly. "You know, like the scales of justice?" He prodded.

Mary looked up at him with something akin to horror in her eyes. "You got me a present about _law_?" This was the least romantic gift she'd ever received, and she was including the book on the history of contagious disease that she'd received from Edith in that estimation.

"Well, not _just_ law." Matthew defended himself. He seemed slightly panicky, as if things weren't going to plan. "We both got to know each other through studying law together and-"

"We knew each other at school." Mary corrected him.

"Yeah, but-" Matthew was growing flustered now, "we didn't like each other then. We grew to _like_ each other by studying law together. Plus..." He hesitated. Mary quirked an eyebrow at him questioningly. "Plus, I think it's quite a good metaphor for us. We balance each other out." He awkwardly pointed to the pendant that was still resting in Mary's palm.

She looked at it again - indeed, the two tiny scales, one gold and one silver, were perfectly balancing each other out. "Oh." She said softly. That was rather sweet, actually. She stopped holding it out as if she was holding a dirty nappy and brought it closer to herself, cradling it. "Thank you." She said sincerely. It did seem like he had put a lot of thought into it. Most boys bought her the most expensive, glamorous thing they could find. The little necklace, with all its flaws, was actually one of the most meaningful gifts she'd ever received.

Matthew smiled broadly, apparently relieved. "That's alright. Maybe don't tell Edith, though - I couldn't get her anything. That's why I didn't give this to you earlier."

The mention of Edith's name sparked Mary off again, reigniting her former fury.

"But you travelled all the way over here to visit her, didn't you?" She said accusatorily.

"What? I came here to see you." Matthew said matter-of-factly. "I thought you would have guessed that."

"How the hell would I have guessed that?!" Mary exclaimed, causing Matthew to jump back slightly. "You came here on her invitation, you didn't tell me anything about it, and you haven't even spoken to me since you got here other than to mock me and...and _torture_ me!" She said dramatically. She still hadn't recovered from the pond incident.

"Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?" Matthew argued back. "You didn't even smile at me when I walked in and you made fun of me in front of your family within five minutes of my arrival! And you want to talk about torture and lack of communication - you're the one who got intimate with me in the kitchen and then ran away the next morning without a word, and _then_ ignored my phone calls!"

Mary didn't know what to say. She had never seen Matthew this upset about anything. He had a point; for the first time she considered how her behaviour must have appeared to him. She would be furious too, if she'd been in his position. And yet, he still came to see her...

"I'm sorry." She said. Matthew gaped at her. Evidently he'd been expecting to have to fight with her for much longer before receiving an apology.

"Oh...erm, ok. Thanks." He said uncertainly.

"But do you understand how it looked from my perspective? You turning up in my house as Edith's guest?" Mary asked. "After what happened between us it was a pretty insensitive thing to do."

"Mary, the only reason I did that was because I wanted to see you but didn't know how else it would happen." Matthew explained earnestly. "And then she told me that you had a boy over and there was no _way_ I was going to let that go."

Mary laughed in spite of herself.

"So I didn't think I was doing anything wrong by accepting Edith's invitation because she's just a friend and you'd already seemingly moved on with some other guy." Matthew finished.

"Gideon isn't...he's the son of a friend of my parents'. I went on a date with him a couple of years ago but I never had feelings for him." Mary clarified. "My parents pressured me into inviting someone over during the holidays and he was the least offensive person I could think of."

"He was the 'least' offensive?" Matthew asked disbelievingly. Mary giggled again. She couldn't understand how he could make her laugh so easily. "Anyway, I figured that there wasn't anything going on between you two. You spoke to him even less than you spoke to me." Matthew smirked. "And I may have asked Edith about the two of you, just to confirm my suspicions..."

"Oh really?" Mary grew smug at the knowledge that he must have been slightly jealous. "So you were so concerned about who this other guy was that you came all the way over here to investigate?"

"No, I told you- I came here to see _you_." Matthew said coyly. He was adorable.

"Why?" Mary asked. She wasn't fishing for compliments - she genuinely wanted to know.

"Because!" Matthew said, blushing. "The same reason I wanted you in the kitchen, the same reason I asked you to go out with me - twice." He looked at her more intently and she felt her knees go weak. "The same reason I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all Christmas." Her knees were officially putty. "I like you." He said simply but there was a weight behind his words.

Mary could do nothing but stare dumbly into his eyes, replaying his words, spoken in that beautiful voice of his, in her mind as soon as he'd uttered them. _Kiss me_. She tried to say, but her brain wasn't engaged enough to do so. Instead, she tip-toed and kissed him herself.

It was slow and gentle, a world apart from their other kisses, but somehow more powerful. They only used their lips; it was so languid, the way his mouth carefully tasted hers before pulling away and letting her do the same to him. Eventually, after a few moments, Mary reached the tip of her tongue out to touch the underside of his top lip. She felt him sigh deeply and the hand on her back pulled her closer as he angled his head. The kiss grew in intensity but was never rushed. Mary delved her fingers into his hair, the soft golden strands cushioning each of her fingers.

Their tongues grazed against each other and she moaned, feeling the fire lit in the pit of her stomach. She groaned into his mouth and tugged at the collar of his jumper. "Mmm…my room." She pulled away just long enough to whisper to him before resuming their caress. Another moan, this time of disappointment, escaped her lips as Matthew pulled away.

He shook his head. "No. I want to take things slower with you." He said seriously. "We're great at fooling around but not so great at handling the repercussions, so I think we should tone it down a bit." He looked to her for a response.

It was difficult to argue with his logic – their casual intimacies had so far only caused misunderstanding and anger. She nodded.

"Plus, I'm going to be borrowing your Dad's spare pyjamas tonight so you probably wouldn't be attracted to me anyway." He joked. Mary laughed again, giddy from his kiss and his words.

They heard soft footsteps approaching. "I think that's Sybil." Mary said.

"She's probably looking for you." Matthew said.

"Actually, she's probably looking for _you._ She's quite besotted with you." Mary grinned.

"Well hopefully that makes two Crawley sisters." Matthew smirked.

"You don't need to worry about that. You've definitely captured the hearts of two Crawley girls."

"Oh?"

"Yeah - Edith fancies you too." Mary glanced at him teasingly before leaving the room.

…

_A/N: well done for making it through. This was a longggg chapter. I'm exhausted myself. Sorry if this was rambly and a bit pointless, but I wrote out so many random things and enjoyed it so much that I decided to throw it all in! Thanks so much for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Hello everyone! Again, many, many thanks for all your wonderfully supportive reviews etc._

_I just wanted to address one review that I received that complained about the characterisation of Mary in this story and the fact that she was a cow. I hope she doesn't come across as completely unlikeable, but honestly I think that canon Mary in series 1 was pretty unlikeable and flaky and prone to messing people around a bit, intentionally or not. Also, I always felt that Mary is actually much more insecure than Matthew is, despite the difference in their demeanour. So all of this, coupled with the fact that they are only second-year university students, means that both Mary and Matthew will act rather silly and irrationally at times!_

_Finally, I just wanted to say that I've gathered that one of the main reasons people like this fic is because it is light-hearted and smutty. But obviously it's a little difficult to keep a fic going solely on those two things so there may be a bit of tension here and there but I assure you that it is not going to be anything really serious - it will relate to them being silly youths as I said above. Anyway, hope you enjoy! xxx_

…

The snow gently settled on the ground outside as Mary finished off her lunch in the common room, trying to block out the annoying, squeal-filled discussion taking place next to her over which boys in the university football team were the 'fittest'. Anna soon came bounding over with a broad grin on her face. "Why didn't you tell me?" She asked excitedly, gripping Mary's arm.

"Tell you what?" Mary asked with a frown.

"About you and Matthew!" Anna laughed. "Or has it been going on for so long that it's not even news anymore?" She teased.

Mary swallowed uncomfortably. She guided Anna to a corner of the room in case anyone could overhear their conversation. "How do you know?" She asked urgently.

"William saw you two kissing in the main courtyard this morning and asked me about it."

Mary sighed and inwardly cursed Matthew for being so irresistible. She hadn't wanted to engage in any PDAs whatsoever, but Matthew's gentle coaxing and alluring smile had convinced her that tasting his lips for a few moments, as they stood to the side of the thoroughfare, would pass without consequence. She made a mental note to toughen her defences against his boyish charm. "It only happened over the holidays, just over a week ago." Mary explained quietly. "It's not a big deal." She added dismissively.

"Of course it's a big deal!" Anna exclaimed. "It's not everyday that you get a new boyfriend!"

Mary winced at Anna's casual use of the term – calling him her 'boyfriend' seemed so serious and official. It suggested that they were 'a couple' now, and that if she and Matthew were to stop their romantic liaisons it would be classed as a 'break-up'. Given that she and Matthew still didn't know each other much beyond how to push each other's buttons, it seemed prudent to take things slowly without jumping straight into a relationship and all the formalities that it brought. She still needed to discover exactly how one was supposed to conduct oneself in a relationship in the first place, and she didn't like the idea of being thrown into the deep end and forced to work it out for herself. "I don't think we're quite _there_ yet." She emphasised. "We're just casually seeing each other at the moment, so please don't tell anyone that we're a couple, and correct anyone who thinks that we are." She asked.

Anna nodded, although there was a slight frown on her face. Mary knew that she didn't always make sense to Anna, but Anna had learned not to question her requests - a faithfulness for which Mary was very grateful. She didn't have any friends, or indeed family members, as trusting as Anna. "But you're still going to have to get him something nice for his birthday, aren't you?"

It was Mary's turn to grow puzzled. "What?"

"His birthday is on Thursday. Apparently he mentioned something to William about us all going out for dinner. I'm sure he'll want you to have pride of place next to him." Anna explained. "So you should probably make a bit of a fuss over him."

Mary sighed. It was far too soon to be lumbered with girlfriend duties, and the prospect of having their first official public outing together in front of all of Matthew's friends was not an appealing one. Oh God, what if he invited his mother along too? He seemed to be a sufferer of a rather severe case of 'mummy's boy', so it wouldn't surprise her if he invited Mrs Crawley out to dinner. He might even bring her along to go clubbing afterwards, too. "Do you really think that's expected of me?" Mary sought reassurance.

To her dismay, Anna nodded with great certainty. "Whether you're properly together or not, you're still his sweetheart. Plus, he'll be turning 20 and that's quite a big birthday - he won't be a teenager anymore!"

Mary glanced off to the side. Panic started building in her stomach. She had no idea how to play this role. What constitutes a meaningful gift for a twenty-year-old man who you've just started dating? The only man she'd ever had to buy gifts for was her father, and he was usually satisfied with any kind of pamphlet or book on developing real estate.

Making her polite excuses to Anna, she headed back to her room. A groan escaped her mouth as she shut the door behind her. This was all becoming rather suffocating. By contrast, Matthew's short visit to Downton had been positively lovely. Barring the first few hours where she'd been incensed with him, it had been so nice to spend time with him, flirting and teasing more freely than usual. Of course, they'd had to be more guarded around Rupert and Mary's family - in particular, Edith, who was as oblivious to Matthew's feelings for Mary as Matthew was of Edith's feelings for him. But the few moments they'd stolen alone together in the library and at the dining table after everyone had left breakfast had been great. All she wanted now were more of those moments, where they were free to take their time and let things take their natural course, without having bystanders place labels on them and pressurise them into behaving in a certain way. She didn't want to be scrutinised and have her inevitable deficiencies as a girlfriend to be discussed amongst the entire student body. After all, the judgment of others was exactly what Mary had come to London to escape.

She didn't want to go on formal dates with Matthew, like she'd done with all the other boys; they always felt so forced and artificial. She didn't want presents from him (although the necklace he'd gotten her was carefully tucked under her jumper and had been around her neck since the night he gave it to her). She didn't want sonnets or serenades or any of the rest of it - her upbringing had taught her to accept these attentions from boys with a serene smile and the promise of another rendez-vous, but the truth was that it was all phony and it usually only made her uncomfortable.

No - all she needed with Matthew was a little bit of time every now and then to speak to each other without feeling the need to be affectionate and 'couply' - whatever that was - if they didn't want to be. Gazing out from her bedroom window over the courtyard, which was swarming with gossiping students, she knew that her wish was unlikely to be granted.

...

"Sorry we've run a bit over time today, but we'll finish going through Lord Denning's argument next time." The lecturer announced, signifying the end of an interminable lecture. Matthew had spent most of it trying to resist the urge to reach for Mary's hand or to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

"I was thinking of organising a dinner on Thursday night, for my birthday." Matthew said, as all the students around them filtered out of the room. "Do you think you'll be able to come?" He'd been planning a way to phrase the request so that it didn't sound like he _expected_ her to come, but he didn't think it needed to sound like a formal invitation either. She would want to come to his birthday event. In theory, at least.

Mary looked up at him as she packed her things into her bag. "Of course, I'll be there." She smiled.

Matthew didn't think she knew when his birthday was, but she didn't seem surprised to hear of it so he thought she must have remembered it from the year before. He beamed at her. "Great! Do you think the Turkish place around the corner would be good?"

Mary nodded. "That sounds lovely...Who else is coming?"

"Me, you, Tom, William and Anna...I haven't invited anyone else yet but maybe another three or four people." Matthew replied. To be honest, it didn't really matter who else would be there now that he knew he'd have Mary by his side all night.

"Alright, great." Mary said, then awkwardly shifted her gaze to the students near them before saying, "I should go - I said I'd meet one of the girls in my commercial law tutorial to go over an essay."

"OK, I'll see you later, then." Matthew smiled at her and dipped his head to kiss her. While she didn't back away, and puckered her lips slightly to receive his little kisses, she didn't exactly reciprocate. Now that he thought about it, it had been a while since Mary had properly kissed him - not since his stay at Downton, in fact. Wondering why this could be, Matthew watched as she smiled somewhat artificially at him before turning to leave. Was she not happy? They hadn't exactly clarified the status of their relationship yet - he'd left Downton without being able to properly speak to her, and for the remainder of the holidays they'd communicated only via text or a couple of quick phone-calls, as they had both been busy with their respective New Year's celebrations. Since returning to university a few days ago, though, she had seemed to enjoy their time together as much as he had; he'd been making her laugh, and vice versa, and they were beginning to have more serious conversations too, about their families and the like. So what could be the problem, the cause of her reticence?

A thought suddenly struck Matthew. Mary had spent the last three or four years - probably longer - being pursued by young men who were seemingly desperate for even two seconds of her attention. They'd ply her with gifts and shower her with compliments on a daily, or even hourly, basis. Matthew racked his brain to think of the last sweet thing he'd said to her - he remembered, sheepishly, that he'd commented on how 'huggable' she'd looked in her woollen jumper the day previously, before proceeding to wrap her in a tight bear-hug until she'd quietly complained that he was squashing her internal organs. It wasn't his most romantic gesture, on reflection.

He needed to up his game, he thought to himself. He needed to show her how much he appreciated her. He needed, in short, to woo her. They were still in the very first stages of their relationship and he didn't want to let the flame die out. Mary Crawley was a prize and she was in danger of slipping through his fingers if he didn't treat her properly.

...

Thursday evening, and Matthew was pottering about his room when there was a soft knock at the door. "Come in." He called, smiling when Mary entered. She was dressed casually enough for the restaurant that they were going to, but had clearly put some effort in given the occasion. Of course, she tended to be quite 'dressed up' even for trips to the supermarket, but it heartened Matthew to think that Mary may have taken some trouble to look nice just for him.

"Well if it isn't the birthday boy." Mary smirked as she approached him. He had not been able to see her yet today - they hadn't had any lectures together that morning and his mother had visited in the afternoon to take him out for lunch. As much as he'd enjoyed spending time with his friends and his mother, he'd been anticipating his evening with Mary as the highlight of the day.

Mary leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you," Matthew grinned at her, although he was slightly disappointed to receive such a chaste greeting.

"How was your day?" Mary asked.

"Good, thanks - it's a shame I had lectures in the morning but otherwise it's been quite nice. I got a few presents, too." He said vaguely, purposely not revealing that, upon hearing of Matthew and Mary's recent romance, Tom Branson had cheekily gifted Matthew with a multi-pack of condoms.

Mary merely nodded in acknowledgement, a look of polite interest on her face.

"We've got about twenty minutes before we need to leave, so..." Matthew trailed off, edging towards her. He settled his hands on her hips and angled his head, dropping a kiss on her lips.

"Matthew-" Mary smiled, "I think you're over-estimating how much time we have."

"But it's my birthday," Matthew murmured against her lips, smirking. It was a mischievous card to play, but as much as he wanted to treat himself (and he did want to treat himself to her so very much), he wanted to show her how he felt about her. He inwardly performed a little victory dance as Mary succumbed to his attempts, and the kiss quickly deepened. Matthew groaned at the feeling of their wet, warm mouths exploring each other, and Mary's hands stroking over his upper arms and shoulders through his crisp shirt. Soon, her hands were in his hair and on his face in order to hold him closer to her and lock their mouths together. Matthew gripped her waist and smoothed one hand over her buttocks, eliciting a moan of arousal. Edging her towards his bed, he slid his hands underneath her top and caressed her back, his fingers sliding over her silky skin. He didn't want to rush this - he wanted it to be special and less animalistic than their previous pursuits.

His plan went slightly awry, however, when he found himself flat on his back with Mary lying on top of him. She broke the kiss and shimmied down his body, producing the most delicious friction between their clothed bodies, until she reached his hips. His mind was hazy from their heated kisses and he looked down at her with a frown. "What are you doing?" He asked. But his question was answered by Mary's nimble fingers unfastening his jeans and reaching into his boxers. Matthew swore loudly. He glanced back down and saw Mary lick her lips. He hastily grabbed her hands in an attempt to still her. "You don't have to do this." He said, worried that she had misunderstood his request.

"I know I don't have to." Mary replied seductively, shaking her hands free of his. Before he could say anything else, her mouth closed around him, and his head thrashed backwards into his pillow. A series of loud, incoherent words and sounds escaped his mouth over the next couple of minutes, as Mary's head bobbed up and down in his lap, her hands working on whatever part of him her lips and tongue couldn't reach.

He gritted his teeth to prevent himself from expending too soon. This wasn't what he'd wanted, as mind-blowingly enjoyable as it was. Summoning up all his conscious thought and determination, he grasped Mary by the shoulders and moved her away. She looked startled.

"I want to be _with_ you." Matthew clarified, anxious that he might have offended her by rejecting her attentions. He wasn't rejecting her at all, but rather he wanted more of her. Unsure how to convey this through words, he raised her back up to his level and kissed her soundly, before gently laying her down next to him. He spent a lot of time lavishing her neck and upper body with affection, as he gradually removed her clothing, keen to make this experience more sensual than the prior ones. She seemed eager to connect with him, muttering and writhing beneath him, so he eventually gave in to her attempts to undress the both of them.

He moved slowly once he was inside her, kissing her lips and shoulder as he rocked back and forth. She hooked her legs around his waist and encouraged him to speed up - he worried that he wasn't pleasing her, and he decided to follow her lead instead. Within minutes they were climaxing, his head buried in the crook of her neck and her fingers embedded in the muscle of his back.

"Wow." Matthew exhaled into her skin. It had only been about three weeks since they had last done this, but it felt like far too long. He ran his hand along her torso, down to her hip and up again, as he leaned up to look into her eyes. Happiness bubbled inside his stomach at having her with him like this, and he leaned down to kiss her. He felt her small hand on his shoulder, pushing him back.

"We should probably go. You've booked a table." Mary said softly.

He nodded and moved away from her, but not before pecking her lips again. This was the best birthday of his entire life. Even better than when he got a Harry Potter potions set for his tenth birthday, he thought with a smug smile.

...

"Ah, here's the happy couple!" Tom called out as Matthew and Mary approached the table in the restaurant. "I would ask why you're late but I may be too young and innocent to know the answer." He winked at them, and Matthew cast him a disapproving look even though he was smiling inwardly.

"We've saved you seats here." Anna gestured to the two empty chairs in the middle of the table, around which sat about ten of Matthew's friends. Matthew thanked her and began greeting everyone. He cut his greetings short, however, when he noticed Mary moving to sit down. He rushed over and pulled her chair out for her, prompting jealous sighs from a couple of the girls who were envious of Mary (Louisa Alessi being one of them) and exaggerated 'awww's from the boys who were eager to mock their shy friend about his new, already high-profile, relationship.

"So how's your day been, Matty?" Tom asked across the table, his voice commanding everyone's attention. "Did you get any use out of my birthday present yet?" He smirked.

Matthew knew that nobody else had any idea what Tom had given to him, but he blushed profusely nonetheless. "Erm, I - my day was good, thanks." He bumbled, and proceeded to tell the group in unnecessary detail about the quail's egg that his mother had told him to try for lunch.

"Did you two get to spend much time together?" Daisy asked. Matthew had gotten to know her through William - she was a sweet, naive girl who seemed to harbour an unending fascination with other people's crushes and relationships.

"No," Mary answered, "I was busy with other things but I had time to come along tonight, luckily."

The smile that had been permanently stuck onto Matthew's face over the last hour fell slightly. Mary was making it sound very much like the only reason she was there was because she happened to have a gap in her busy schedule of doing things that didn't involve Matthew. He didn't expect her to cancel her plans just to spend time with him, but there was something in her manner - some sort of indifference - that suggested that his birthday wasn't all that important to him.

"Did you get him a present?" Louisa interjected.

Matthew's smile fell a little further when he realised that Mary hadn't even given him a card. Again, it wasn't that she ought to pull out all the stops for him, and he was grateful enough that she was here with him at his dinner, but he couldn't help but think of how much effort he would have gone to had it been _her_ twentieth birthday. Plus, almost everyone else here had given him his present at some point throughout the day. It was just the done thing. Perhaps she was planning on giving it to him later?

"No, I didn't quite get round to it." Mary replied tersely.

"Oh, that's a shame." Louisa said pointedly. She turned to Matthew. "Well, Matthew, I hope you like _my_ present. I went to Milan over the holidays and had these made for you." She passed him a small box. He gave her his thanks, unravelled the ribbon and lifted the lid. It was a pair of silver cufflinks.

"These are marvellous, thanks so much, Louisa. I really appreciate it." Matthew smiled broadly at her. In all honesty, he hardly really knew Louisa that well, but she had gone out of her way to speak to him over the last few months and she seemed very nice and friendly. It still surprised him that she had bought him such an expensive gift, though. It also highlighted the fact that Mary was now the only person who hadn't gotten him anything.

"You're very welcome." Louisa beamed back. "Twenty is a special age, and you're a special guy, so I wanted to get you something special." She laughed prettily - why she laughed, Matthew wasn't entirely sure, but he smiled and thanked her again.

"So anyway," Tom piped up, hoping to diffuse the awkward atmosphere that had settled over the table after Louisa and Mary's hostile exchange and Louisa's display of her obvious infatuation with Matthew, "let's order, shall we?"

Everyone began perusing the menu and discussing the dishes. Matthew tried asking Mary what she wanted to order, and whether she wanted to share a starter, but she was not particularly forthcoming. Her behaviour wasn't quite as stand-offish as their disastrous first 'date' where she'd walked out halfway through the main course, but it was still a far cry from how he was used to engaging with her.

As dinner progressed, Mary seemed to open up a bit, much to Matthew's relief. She was chatting animatedly with Anna, across the table, by the time the main courses were cleared away. He joined their conversation and was glad to find that Mary continued making jokes and let him bicker with her about whether the X Factor had been running for too long or not. The fun was short-lived, however...

Mary excused herself to go to the ladies' room - she was gone for less than ten minutes, but when she returned her expression was stony and she sat rigidly in her seat. He asked her if she was alright and all he received in reply was a curt "Yes". Dessert was brought out, along with a birthday cake for Matthew that Tom had arranged, and everyone sang to him. He cut the cake, and William insisted that Mary should feed him a piece. She shook her head, but more people called out for her to feed him, apparently taking much amusement from this idea. Eventually, she relented and broke a small piece of cake off onto a fork, holding it up to Matthew's mouth. He smiled at her and didn't break eye contact as he took the cake into his mouth, but Mary's gaze was somewhere else and she didn't appear to be enjoying this moment as much as he was.

"Kiss!" Tom cried out, and more cheers and whoops followed. Evidently, his friends had ordered and consumed far too much wine. He wasn't going to begrudge their antics, of course - any excuse to kiss Mary Crawley would suffice. He quickly swallowed the mouthful of cake and took Mary's lips in his, his hands squeezing her waist and pulling her against him. Spurred on by the wolf-whistles and cheers and the wine flowing through his own veins, Matthew continued kissing her for far longer, and far more inappropriately, than he would have otherwise dared to kiss someone in public. It was only when he felt her hand slap against his chest that he jumped back, to meet her angry gaze. Her eyes appeared to be welling up and he worried that she was about to burst into tears. He had no idea what was happening, but the next thing he knew was that Mary was grabbing her handbag and coat and pushing past him, out into the night.

...

Mary marched defiantly down the street, determined not to let herself break down. She had never cried over a boy and she definitely wasn't going to let tonight be the first time. But then the conversation she had overheard replayed in her mind and the tears that she had fought down threatened to overspill again.

The evening had been mixed - she had felt a little thrill at being Matthew's special guest on his birthday, and he had looked good enough to eat. She'd felt slightly uneasy when they'd been in the throes - it had been different to the other times they'd been together and she hadn't been expecting it. He'd been gentle, almost loving, with her, moving slowly and kissing her affectionately as well as passionately. She wasn't used to this kind of sex and didn't know how to respond to it, so she had hurried him along instead. In spite of being somewhat unused to this manner of intercourse, though, she decided that it had been quite wonderful and it hadn't frightened her as much as she'd have thought. It had felt romantic rather than merely lustful and, for the first time, she had felt _valued_ by her bed partner.

The night went downhill when they arrived at the restaurant, however. The jokes, prying questions and searching glances were exactly what she'd been fearing. She was being placed under the microscope and it made her feel extremely uncomfortable. As was typical of her in such situations, she put her guard up and sought to play down any notion that she was Matthew's girlfriend. Her mood had only sank further when she noticed that Louisa was present, and her blood boiled as she watched the vixen give Matthew a gift that he gushed over. Mary actually _had_ bought a present for Matthew; she'd spent the last couple of days racking her brain over what she could give him that would be as thoughtful as the necklace he'd given her for Christmas, searching through numerous websites and visiting countless shops before settling on something. The only problem was that she hadn't known how to give it to him, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be forced into presenting it to him under the scrutinising watch of Louisa Alessi and co.

Thankfully, the close attention soon subsided and Mary had been able to enjoy herself, even engaging in some of her and Matthew's trademark arguments about inconsequential subjects. Her cheery mood quickly dissipated, though, when she left the table to use the ladies' room. As she walked through the door and was about to turn around the corner to where the cubicles and sinks were, she heard two female voices that she recognised.

"They're cute together, aren't they?" Daisy said excitedly. "Such a good-looking couple!"

"I wouldn't get too excited about them, Daisy." Louisa replied sagely. "I don't think they're as genuine as they'd have you believe."

"What do you mean?" Daisy asked, sounding horror-struck by the idea that a relationship could be anything less than completely sincere.

"Well, let's just say that any man would be a bit of a fool to say 'no' to Mary Crawley, and Matthew is no fool."

"I don't understand." Daisy said, sounding confused.

Louisa sighed with faux-impatience, as if the point she was making was obvious. "If you ask any guy on campus to tell you three things about Mary Crawley, they'll tell you the same things - she's beautiful, she's well-connected, and she's good in bed."

"But that's not why Matthew's going out with her." Daisy said, almost questioningly.

"You don't think so? Come on, Daisy - he's a law student hoping to enter the world of the privileged and we all know he's not very well-off. He could use someone like her to get him through the door. Plus, he's quite inexperienced sexually and she could teach him a thing or two." At Daisy's gasp, Louisa continued, "You may think it sounds bad, but I'm afraid to say that's how young men operate."

"Matthew's not like that, though!" Daisy insisted.

"I heard Tom tell William that he'd given Matthew nothing but a bumper-pack of condoms for his birthday. Now, I might be wrong but I'd think that Matthew's best friend would know better than anyone the reasons why Matthew has started dating her." Louisa replied secretively. "In any case," she continued, "why on Earth would anyone want to date Mary Crawley for her_ personality_?" She scoffed. "She's the least caring person on the face of the planet - she came to Matthew's birthday party as his girlfriend and didn't even get him a present, for crying out loud."

"I did think that was strange." Daisy said softly.

"Exactly." Louisa replied confidently. "She's simply not girlfriend material. Can you imagine trying to snuggle up with her? It'd be like hugging a block of ice!" She laughed loudly, and Daisy reluctantly laughed with her. "Matthew himself said once that she was difficult to talk to other than to argue with, because all she does is antagonise people in an attempt to make herself feel smarter."

"Matthew said that?" Daisy asked, aghast.

"Yes - words to that effect, at least." Louisa said. "So the only logical conclusion is that he's after her status and her sexual prowess."

"It's just a bit strange, though - William saw them kissing the other day, like an actual couple." Daisy persisted.

Louisa sighed again. "Of _course_ he'd do that. It wouldn't surprise me if he tried to kiss her in public as much as he could - it heightens his profile, doesn't it? People are already talking about him around campus more than they ever have before. And he has to show her some affection and keep her satisfied or else she'll soon walk off and find some other man to fool around with. She's very high maintenance, you know - Matthew said that, too."

"So how long do you think they'll be together?" Daisy asked, clearly convinced that Louisa was a leading authority on this topic.

"As long as it takes for Matthew to get the status that he needs. Then he'll go in search of a _real_ girlfriend." Came the reply, and it was clear that Louisa had herself in mind for this role.

Mary had never trusted Louisa and she knew that there was animosity between them that might prompt Louisa to say unkind things about her to other people. Yet, what she had just heard struck a chord with her - what Louisa had told Daisy exactly matched all the things that Mary had been most afraid of, her deepest insecurities. That all she had to offer, all anyone would want from her, were her looks, her wealth and her reputation for being easy - a reputation that was undeserved, she felt, given that she'd only given herself to four boys, including Matthew. It was probably her own fault for failing to stem the rumours that circulated about her, but she had enjoyed the attention and had been unable to shake the idea embedded in her mind that it was always good to be talked about, unless it was wholly negative. She knew that Louisa would have carefully chosen what to tell Daisy, knowing that Daisy found it difficult to keep secrets and would be shocked enough by the revelations to want to discuss it with other people. Not that it will make any difference, Mary thought bitterly, everyone probably thinks the same things anyway. That's why they seemed so intrigued by the relationship.

But what bothered her the most, what hurt her more than anything else, was knowing that Matthew had said those things about her. Louisa wasn't a nice person, but Mary doubted that she would completely fabricate quotes, especially when there was a chance of Matthew hearing of it and being asked about it. Again, she supposed it was foolish to have hoped for anything more from Matthew - she had initiated the no-strings-attached arrangement with him, so who could blame him for wanting to continue to sleep with someone whom he found attractive? Still, it was quite crushing to know that everything he'd done - the surprise visit to Downton, the necklace - were done superficially, just to keep her interest enough that she'd let him keep bedding her and raise his profile.

"Mary!" Matthew's voice shouted from behind her. She heard rapid footsteps and his heavy breathing, and she quickened her pace. She couldn't quite out-run him, and he caught up to her by the time she'd reached their accommodation block. "What is it?" He asked, grasping her elbow to halt her and turn her to face him.

She pulled her arm free from his hand and glared at him. "I don't want to speak to you." She said firmly, turning to enter the building.

"Please," Matthew pleaded, holding her hand. He sounded very worried, and Mary felt bad for him for a moment before she remembered why she was so angry. "Please just tell me what I did wrong."

Mary didn't move away, but she didn't answer him either. It was difficult to know how to explain. As furious as she was, she found the issue extremely embarrassing and belittling and she didn't particularly want to have an in-depth conversation about it.

"Was it that I kissed you in public?" Matthew prompted softly. "Because I know you don't like doing that and I'm really sorry - honestly, I didn't realise how upset you'd be-"

"It's not that," Mary interrupted, "well, it's not _just_ that." Matthew watched her, waiting for her to continue. "I'm upset because you've been leading me on."

Matthew's eyes grew wide. "_I've_ been leading _you_ on?" He asked, seemingly flabbergasted.

"Yes," Mary replied, her eyes narrowed - she didn't like his tone. "Are you suggesting that it's me who's been leading you on?"

"Well," Matthew spluttered, apparently torn between being honest and appeasing her, "I'd say that if anyone has been leading anyone on, it'd be you leading me on, yes."

All Mary could do was expel a grunt of incredulity and turn to leave again.

"Wait, wait!" Matthew sounded panicked again. He jumped in front of her. "What I mean is, it just seems like you've been hot and cold with me recently. One minute you're happy to kiss me in the courtyard and the next minute you're pushing me away. One minute you're joking around and flirting with me and the next you're running out of my birthday dinner!" He gestured somewhere to his right, in the direction of the road where the restaurant was, and where, presumably, his birthday dinner was continuing without him. Again, Mary felt momentarily guilty.

"That's only because I've been uncomfortable with this whole 'relationship' thing! Everyone's suddenly probing into our business and talking about us and...expecting me to feed you _cake,_ for crying out loud, and it's too much!" Mary cried.

"I'm sorry about that, but I'm not in control of it." Matthew apologised sincerely. "I wish I could do something about it - I'll tell my friends to stop making comments, hopefully that'll help-"

"Oh yes," Mary scoffed, "I'm sure you _hate_ all the attention you're getting."

Matthew frowned and tilted his head at her questioningly. "What do you mean?"

Mary crossed her arms and fixed her steely gaze at him. It was the stance that she confronted Edith with whenever she borrowed and subsequently stretched out one of Mary's designer dresses. "Don't play dumb, Matthew. I know you're only pursuing me because you want to have sex with me and-"

"What?" Matthew exclaimed. "That's ridiculous, I don't want to have sex with you!" He said emphatically. Mary raised her eyebrows at him and he quickly backtracked. "No, I mean - I mean, of course I want to - I do enjoy that, very much, but that's not _all_ I want from you." He insisted.

"I believe you." Mary replied, and Matthew looked relieved albeit a little startled by her quick acceptance of his argument. "Because you also want to enhance your standing at the university and use my contacts." She continued, and watched his expression fall again.

"What? Mary, where are you getting all of this from?"

"It's fine, Matthew," Mary said as nonchalantly as possible. She loathed letting people see her upset but it was difficult to keep the bitterness out of her voice. "I understand - it's the same reasons that all the other boys are after me so it would be silly to think that you were any different."

"Mary," Matthew said determinedly, stepping forward and looking at her so intently that she was forced to meet his eyes. "That is utter bullshit. I want to be with you for _you_, not because of your connections."

"Well you're certainly not with me for my personality." Mary argued. "Otherwise you wouldn't have called me antagonistic and high-maintenance."

Matthew ran his head through his hair in exasperation. "Again - where on Earth are you getting this from?"

"Are you saying you've never said that about me?" Mary challenged. She didn't want to reveal her sources or the circumstances of her overhearing it, as that could give Matthew an opportunity to discredit them as unreliable.

Matthew glanced around him, seemingly racking his brain. "I...may have." He said, rubbing his temple. "Yeah, I think I did." He said regretfully. "It was a while ago, though."

"But you still think those things about me." Mary stated.

"For God's sake, Mary, you _are_ high maintenance and you _are_ antagonistic. You get your shampoo imported from Brazil and you argue with me about absolutely everything - you're arguing with me now!"

"Well if I'm so awful then why would you want to be with me?" Mary asked, feeling herself grow teary-eyed again. She had heard some pretty awful, bitchy things said about her in her lifetime, particularly during school, so she was surprised that Matthew's opinion affected her so much.

"Because I _like_ how high maintenance you are - I think it's quite endearing." Matthew was now smiling at her fondly. "And I _like_ arguing with you, it's fun - this argument aside." He added drily. "I used to think you were difficult to get along with but that never stopped me from trying, because I always knew there was something else there and I wanted to get to know you better. I still do."

Mary surveyed him sceptically. He was so bloody sincere that it was near impossible to stay angry with him for longer than twenty minutes.

"Plus," Matthew took her silence as an opportunity to continue, "those things - which I said months ago - pale in comparison to all the things you've said about me over the years." He was smirking, presumably to show her that he wasn't holding a grudge about it.

"That's different - I never said anything that you didn't know about. I either said it to your face or loudly enough that you would overhear it." Mary said defensively. Having grown up in the midst of back-stabbing girls, including one Edith Crawley, Mary had vowed never to become one of them and had adopted her direct, straight-talking manner from an early age.

Matthew nodded his head and looked at her apologetically. "You're right, I shouldn't have spoken about you behind your back. I haven't done it since and I promise I won't do it again."

Mary's expression softened at this and she unfolded her arms. "Fine." She shrugged, not wanting to appear too willing to forgive.

She concealed a smile at the sight of Matthew's entire face lighting up. "So are we OK?" He asked eagerly, stepping even closer to her and running a hand down her arm.

Mary knew that he was asking whether they could go back to 'seeing each other' or 'being a couple' or whatever it is that they had been since the holidays. She accepted his apology and suspected that much of what Louisa said had been embellishment, but the fact remained that Mary was still unsure of herself and her ability to handle being in a relationship. Undoubtedly her sudden exit from Matthew's dinner would quickly spread around the student body, if it hadn't already, and she and Matthew would be subjected to more intense scrutiny. "Erm, I'm-" she hesitated, too self-conscious to say what she wanted to say. _I'm insecure, I'm afraid of how much I seem to like you, I still don't fully understand why you want to be with me and I find it difficult to trust people. "_I just-" she tutted at herself for being so incoherent.

"You want to take things slower?" Matthew asked. He was looking at her as if he was reading a book. He just seemed to understand.

Mary nodded. "Yes, I think so."

"That's fine." Matthew replied, a small smile on his lips. "I'll wait for you."

...

_A/N: as always, please let me know what you think! I never get my stories beta-d and I don't discuss them with anyone when I write so I have no clue if I'm being completely mad, boring or just a bit rubbish. So your thoughts are always welcome! Thanks so much for reading xxx_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Sorry for the delay! This chapter has been almost-finished for days now, but I've only just got round to polishing it off a bit. It shifts between Matthew and Mary's perspectives. Thanks so much for your continued interest, even as things divert from smuttiness for a little while and evolve into something a bit more serious! I promise you, though, that the smut will return soon...hope you enjoy! xxx_

_..._

"You're up early, Tom. It's not even noon yet." Matthew joked, as Tom walked into the room in his pyjamas looking like he'd foregone sleep for several days.

Matthew and Mary had been sat around the small wooden table in the kitchen down their corridor, both eating their late Saturday morning breakfast. They had seen each other several times over the nine days since Matthew's birthday dinner, at lectures and the like. Matthew had decided not to instigate any meet-ups, knowing that she wanted to move more slowly, but they had inevitably bumped into each other. Nothing romantic had taken place between them, however, and Matthew was beginning to worry that the flame between them was wavering. It certainly wasn't from his perspective - he was as intoxicated by her as he ever had been, perhaps more given that he now knew what he was missing out on. But Mary Crawley was a tricky one to read; she kept her cards to her chest and rarely let her guard slip. Not wanting to force her hand, all he could do was be patient and wait until she was ready to address the issue of their relationship. If that time ever came...

"I need to get some work done before this evening." Tom said through his yawn, stumbling over to the stove. "I've got a hot date tonight." Matthew saw Mary raise an eyebrow at this. To her, Tom seemed like a nice enough lad, but Matthew knew she perceived him to be an overly-opinionated, brash and slobby Irishman, and she was undoubtedly wondering who on Earth would have let themselves be wooed by him.

"That's exciting. Anyone we know?" Matthew asked. Tom shook his head silently, his attention on the food in front of him. Matthew turned back to Mary and shrugged, striking up a conversation about the Easter play. It was only six weeks until the first performance and, with such an ambitious play to put on, there was a lot of preparation required. Being a wordsmith, Matthew's role was to supervise the script and discuss it with the director and actors as rehearsals got under way. Adapting A Midsummer Night's Dream for a low-budget university stage, with young performers whose main concern was the glory of the spotlight rather than understanding the words they were speaking, was a difficult task, but one that both Matthew and Mary were willing to rise to in their respective roles. Their next gathering, to continue work on the main props and script, was on Monday afternoon.

A couple of minutes later, Tom pulled up a chair beside them and sat down with a sigh. Mary wrinkled her nose at the slushy concoction that he'd made for breakfast, which he was now eating out of an old mug with a spoon. Her reaction made Matthew smile in amusement; she was so easily disgusted that it was endearing. Unfortunately he wasn't able to enjoy her presence for much longer - he had a meeting in twenty minutes with a careers advisor about applying for internships to do during the holidays.

"Anyway, I should be heading off." He stood and discreetly glanced at Mary to see if he could detect any hint of disappointment at his leaving. She looked as nonchalant as ever, casually swirling the tea around in her mug. "Hope the date goes well, Tom. I'll see you guys later." He directed the last statement at Mary, and she looked up and offered a small smile in acknowledgement. That was encouraging, wasn't it? A sign that she might want to see him soon?

Tucking his chair underneath the table, he exited the room.

"I wish he'd get out more, meet a nice girl." Tom said once Matthew had closed the door behind him. "I don't know what he's so shy about."

Mary shifted in her seat uncomfortably. The last thing she wanted to discuss was the idea of Matthew pursuing other girls. It was selfish and nonsensical to adopt a 'if I can't have you then nobody can' attitude, but she couldn't help the way she felt.

"I think he's too romantic for his own good - he wants everything to be perfect." Tom continued. "Like with Catherine-" he said, referring to Matthew's only serious girlfriend, whom he dated during sixth form, "he thinks it was love at first sight. That they were meant to be," he mumbled around a mouthful of the porridge-y substance, "what a load of old tosh, eh? He's probably waiting for that to happen again. But each to their own, I guess." He shrugged, rapidly shoving spoonfuls of food into his mouth before standing up and dropping the dirty mug in the sink. "Anyway, I should head off and shower. See you later."

Mary was thankful for the departure of Tom and his insights about Matthew's love life, but she wasn't too happy about being left alone to dwell on what he'd told her. It didn't surprise her that Matthew would have such idealistic notions of love, or that the only reason he'd asked Catherine out was because he believed them to be made for each other. What worried her, though, was that she knew for a fact that Matthew did not feel that way about her. Their first encounter had been quite the opposite of love at first sight - they'd argued in the middle of a lesson to the point where she'd stormed out of the room and their history teacher had to go running after, tugging a reluctant Matthew along and forcing a mutual apology out of them. From that moment, they'd been fairly open about their disdain for each other. Matthew, of course, had been much more polite and discreet about it, but he'd never shied away from putting her in her place whenever he felt necessary. It was only over the last year that the hostility had ebbed away, clearing the path for something resembling a friendship ('friendship' itself was too strong a word for their playfully argumentative encounters). Their recent intimacy, therefore, made more sense as a random blip in their relationship than a natural progression. A niggling feeling told her that Matthew had asked her to be his girlfriend only because he didn't know what else to do. Perhaps he thought he was doing the honourable thing by morphing their naughtiness into a legitimate courtship, in an effort to protect her virtue? Or maybe he had confused himself into thinking that he genuinely liked her, when he was actually being temporarily blinded by lust?

Losing her appetite, she poured the rest of her tea down the sink and placed her uneaten granola in the fridge, knowing that one of the hungry undergraduates on her corridor would be willing to finish it off even if they didn't know its origins. It troubled her that she was so consumed by thoughts of Matthew's (potential) feelings for her. After all, he was just a quiet nerd with not much to offer beyond bad jokes, a thorough knowledge of steam trains, unruly hair...that felt so good between her fingers, an adorable smile, a kind heart-

Mary snapped herself out of this dangerous train of thought. She needed to do something to take her mind off of him, something that would command her complete attention. Returning to her room, she grabbed her handbag. She needed to go shopping.

...

"Louisa, I need this floor to be mopped and dried within the next ten minutes - chop chop!" Mary clapped her hands. She was aware of how patronising she was being, but she convinced herself that it was not due to Louisa's blatant crush on Matthew. She was just being an assertive backstage manager, that's all.

Louisa rolled her eyes and continued whispering and giggling with her friend, Melissa. Mary deliberately let out a loud sigh and turned to bark orders at some of the engineering geeks who were assisting with constructing the more complicated props. Bossing around those more vulnerable than her tended to alleviate her spirits.

Another thing that had recently been effective at lifting her mood walked through the door at that very moment. He smiled at her, that lop-sided smirk of his, and the butterflies in her stomach instantly took flight. This was absurd - she'd seen him just 48 hours earlier! She tore her gaze away from him, not wanting to stare so openly, but kept track of where he was out of the corner of her eye as he strode over to the director, the script in his hand. Suddenly she was unable to focus on anything else but him. _Curse him for being involved in this play_, she thought. _How am I ever going to get anything done?_ Busying herself with making a timetable for the coming weeks, she was able to somewhat ignore the blonde head as he moved about the room speaking to people.

"M-Mary?" A meek voice sounded from somewhere nearby. It was one of those engineering geeks; he was practically crouching before her, almost quivering.

"Is everything alright?" Mary said as gently as she could. It gave her a thrill when people respected her and took her seriously, but she didn't want anyone to be scared of her.

The boy straightened up a bit, visibly relieved that she hadn't smacked him with the back of her hand for daring to speak to her. "Yes - only, we can't begin to work on the scenery until the floor is clean." He gestured to the flooring beneath them, which was still littered with chewing gum, bits of crisps and spilled drinks.

Mary let out a frustrated sigh - Louisa and Melissa were supposed to have had the floor ready by now! "You two!" They stood gossiping and casting sideways glances at the boys around them. "We need the floor to be cleaned up now! There are mops over there-" Mary flung an arm out to the side, "and buckets of water over there-" she flung the other arm out, pointing aggressively. "Now get a move on!" She huffed, sharply turning away to indicate that she wasn't going to waste anymore time on them.

"Alright, whatever you say, Mary." She heard Louisa say. On the face of it, she sounded obedient, but Mary wasn't buying it. Rather than giving them the pleasure of showing her irritation, though, Mary continued to ignore them. Until, that is, she heard loud sloshing sounds approaching her from behind, accompanied by amused laughter. She was far from amused, however, when she turned around to see Louisa and Melissa charging at her with dirty mops soaked in a strange soapy substance. She backed up, only to find herself cornered. They were headed straight for her, from both sides so that she couldn't escape, cackling as they came. Mary had a horrible feeling that her favourite suede boots would soon be ruined forever unless she moved away. The laughter from other students, who clearly saw this as a bit of harmless tomfoolery and underestimated Mary's thorough dislike of the sort of 'fun' that placed both her dignity and her shoes in jeopardy, echoed around the hall. Frantically looking around her, she noticed some scaffolding that had been put up behind her. Not having much time to think about it, she began to climb it, hoping that her two bullies would give up as soon as they realised that they couldn't catch her. But no - to Mary's dismay, they remained at the foot of the scaffolding, apparently ready to stay put until Mary descended so they could douse her with dirty water. They were, in short, total bitches.

"Come on, Mary!" Louisa called to her, mop in hand and a devilish smile on her face. "You're going to have to come back down at some point!"

Mary really wanted to argue back, but she didn't see how she could disagree with that statement. Just as she was about to concede and brace herself for the humiliation, she heard her name being called from somewhere above her.

"Mary! Up here!"

Angling her head, she looked up to see Matthew in the balcony. He was panting, as if he'd sprinted out of the hall and up the spiral staircase to her aid. Which he must have done, in order to make it up there in such a short space of time. Those pesky butterflies began fluttering around her stomach again.

"Climb up." Matthew told her, holding his hand out.

It was a nice idea, Mary thought, but not a very sensible or realistic one. The top of the scaffolding fell about three feet short of the bottom of the balcony, so she would have to stand on the very top of it - which was nothing more than a metal pole about two inches wide - to be able to reach Matthew's hand.

"I don't think I can." She replied, trying to shut out the jeering and persistent giggling from beneath her.

"Trust me." Matthew said to her. He looked so earnest and sincere that it was difficult to disobey him, despite the threat of falling off some shoddy metal scaffolding in front of dozens of her peers. In all honesty, though, Mary would rather suffer a few fractured bones from a fall than take the safe option and place herself in the spiteful hands of Louisa Alessi and her sidekick. With renewed vigour, she continued climbing the rungs until she reached the top where, all of a sudden, her determination plummeted again.

"You'll be fine." Matthew assured her, presumably having read the look of terror on her face. "Just grab hold of that metal thing there- that's it, then step up onto here - exactly, like that - now-"

Mary trembled lightly as she balanced on the narrow pole, thankful that she was blessed with dainty soles and not Edith's gargantuan Yeti feet.

"Now take my hand," Matthew urged softly. She cautiously let go of the scaffolding and grabbed Matthew's outstretched hand, trusting him completely, just as he'd asked. Soon, he was hoisting her up and into his arms, in a fireman hold. This was infinitely more romantic than the last time Matthew had carried her, which had been over a frozen pond in her back garden as she screamed and swore at him.

Mary stared into his eyes, almost gaping at him, as he held her. He smiled at her slightly, and she suddenly became aware of how she was ogling him. It was simply that he'd rescued her - that he'd seen her in distress and he'd stopped whatever he was doing to dash to save her. And now he was carrying her in his strong arms, his body warm against hers. In the back of her mind she was vaguely aware that she was sensationalising the scenario, but it didn't matter. The butterflies were running rampant, and her heart was pounding.

Matthew gently set her down on the ground, but her arms remained around his neck, her eyes looking straight into his. The urge to kiss him was overwhelming. Her lips were moving towards his seemingly of their own volition and her eyelids began to flutter closed.

"Matthew!"

The shrill sound prompted them to spring apart, Mary finally releasing her arms from around his neck.

"You spoiled our fun." Louisa whined. Mary had the distinct feeling that Louisa's interruption was designed to prevent them from kissing more than it was to complain to Matthew.

A little startled, Matthew turned around and looked down over the balcony at the dozens of upturned faces. "Er...sorry." He mumbled. Mary frowned - he could have at least scolded her for being so cruel.

Her irritation at Louisa was quickly displaced by more pleasant thoughts, as Matthew walked away and his arm brushed against hers, sending tingles all over that side of her body.

When Mary returned to her bedroom that evening she sank into her armchair and stared out of the window, watching the rain fall, racking her brain for an explanation for the strange emotions running through her veins. What was wrong with her? Why was she feeling so light-headed, so giddy? She'd spent a lot of time being intensely intimate with Matthew, but somehow all of that paled in comparison to being held in his arms for thirty seconds. It didn't make any sense. She supposed it was the fact that he'd cared enough to run to her - that he actually cared about her - that made her feel special. But why did that matter to her so much? For three years, he'd just been 'Matthew' - he'd pop up every now and then, lecturing her about something or other and deliberately pushing her buttons until she was able to brush him off with a withering put-down.

But now he was..._Matthew_, and she couldn't stop thinking about him. The more she tried to distract herself, the harder it became to forget him. It was almost as if she was beginning to fall in love with- no!

She shook her head clear of this ridiculous notion. She hardly even believed in love. 'Love' was a concept invented by the media to con young girls into watching Hollywood films and buying copious amounts of make-up to attract a partner. Besides, she was quite sure that you needed to actually know someone in order to be in love with them, whereas she and Matthew still barely knew each other. It was infatuation - that was all. A passing crush, even.

So surely there'd be no harm in spending time with him and maybe indulging in the odd kiss or two? _No_, Mary told herself, t_here didn't seem anything wrong with that at all._

With that thought in mind, she stood up, quickly checked her appearance in the mirror, and determinedly made her way to Matthew's room.

...

"Oh, Matthew, look at you!"

Matthew sighed discreetly at the unendingly chirpy voice. Forcing a smile onto his face, he looked to where his companion was stood.

Louisa was cradling a photo-frame in her hands; it was the photo of himself as a five-year-old with his parents - both of them - on a day out at a safari park. It was the last family photo that was taken of them and it was very dear to him.

"You were so cute." She cooed. "Look at your little hands!"

Matthew liked Louisa - she had been friendly towards him since they met, was always in a good mood, and she was easy to talk to. He also couldn't deny that she was very attractive. Her Mediterranean features lent her a certain exoticness that was different to, say, Mary's classic beauty. Not that Mary was the benchmark against which he measured all other women. Not at all.

Clearing his throat and pushing away thoughts of Mary and the way she'd looked at him that afternoon when he'd carried her, he briefly explained the story behind the photograph. It wasn't a topic that he was accustomed to speaking about openly, but Louisa looked sympathetic and enquired after his father and further details of what happened to him, so he reluctantly elaborated.

He was grateful for the two knocks on his door that sounded less than a minute later. Opening the door, he was half-expecting to find Tom there until he remembered that Tom was out on another date with his mysterious new lady-friend.

"Mary!" His face involuntarily lit up upon seeing her stood there. She was in a navy zip-up hoodie (he hadn't realised that she owned such casual clothing, but it suited her) and leggings, with fluffy slipper-boots, tousled hair and a fresh face. It was one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever seen.

She smiled at him warmly and opened her mouth to speak. No sound escaped her lips, however, when the clatter of a photo-frame on a shelf from behind Matthew startled her, and a small frown formed on her brow. Before he could say anything, Louisa appeared next to him, giving Mary what could only be described as a death-glare.

"Louisa just stopped by for a chat." Matthew explained to Mary, worried that she might misconstrue Louisa's presence in his bedroom. Mary merely nodded, a stony look on her face. He didn't know what to say to diffuse the awkward tension between the three of them. It was a big step for Mary to come to visit him in his bedroom, as they'd only seen each other in public places recently, and he didn't want to ruin the opportunity to spend quality time with her. Unfortunately he couldn't see how he could make Louisa leave them alone without being rude to her. "I forgot you were coming round, actually..." He said to Mary, improvising. Her frown turned into one of confusion. "You wanted to go over that essay on leases, right?" He prompted, hoping that he was looking at her pointedly enough that she'd catch on. As expected, she was quick on the uptake, and she answered convincingly. He smirked at her secretly before turning to Louisa. "Sorry, Louisa," he said, knowing that the art student would have absolutely no interest in a discussion of land law, "I'll see you soon, though."

Looking extremely put out, Louisa collected her things and walked out, throwing Matthew the brightest smile she could muster while almost barging Mary out of the way.

"So...do you want to come in?" Matthew asked, once Louisa had disappeared round the corridor. Mary still looked rather troubled, and he immediately guessed at what was bothering her. "She randomly appeared at my door - I didn't invite her over." He reassured her. His spirits were buoyed beyond measure to know that Mary might be jealous - even the tiniest bit - of Louisa spending time alone with him.

Satisfied by this response, Mary smiled at him and walked through the doorway. She stood in the middle of the room and hesitated, seemingly unsure of why she was there.

"Are you busy this evening?" She asked.

Matthew shook his head. "No, not at all." But his smile fell as he remembered an item on his mental to-do list. "Well, actually, I just need to send off a couple of emails to my tutors but then I'm all yours." He said innocently.

Strangely, Mary blushed slightly at this.

"In the meantime," he gestured for her to take a seat as he fetched his laptop, "you can tell me about how the rest of your weekend went." Other than at the play meeting that afternoon, he hadn't seen her since Saturday morning; she always had busy weekends packed with various engagements, shopping trips or other glamorous pursuits. It was interesting for him to hear about how she spent her spare time, as it always so starkly contrasted to his weekends spent re-watching David Attenborough documentaries or reading _The Economist. _

"Ugh, it was shit." Mary said dramatically, throwing herself into Matthew's chair for effect.

Matthew chuckled inwardly. "What happened?" He took a seat next to her. Being lucky enough to have one of the larger bedrooms in their accommodation block, he had a small sofa in his room. The trouble was, it was sized somewhere in between a single armchair and a double-seated sofa. Consequently, he and Mary were sat quite close together.

Ignoring the fact that their legs were almost touching, he listened patiently as Mary relayed to him her 'horrific' night out with a few of the girls in their halls, who were also absurdly wealthy. Apparently, clubs in Chelsea are just not what they used to be - considering Mary was not even 20 years old yet, Matthew wondered how much experience she could have had of them, but he let her talk, keeping an ear open to her rant as he began composing an email.

"So I told Henrietta that we're never going back to that place again." Mary concluded after a few minutes.

"Good decision." He said, humouring her. "It can't have been all bad, though - I'm sure you got to post dozens of photos of yourself on Facebook." Matthew said drily. Mary was known for having almost 10,000 photos tagged of herself, and that's after she deleted all the ones that she deemed unflattering.

"It's other people who post photos of me, actually." Mary bit back.

Matthew merely scoffed and continued to type. He could sense Mary watching him in silence for a few moments.

"Why don't you like Facebook?" She said suddenly, obviously wanting to know why he was poking fun at her. It was all Matthew could do to stop himself from kissing that adorable pout right off her lips.

Instead, he said, "Because it's vain."

"It's not."

"It is. Its sole purpose is to give people a means to broadcast their lives to everyone they know and portray themselves as being this wonderful, dazzling person that they actually aren't."

"And to keep in touch with friends." Mary countered, clearly annoyed that he was calling her conceited, even though she was.

"That's the excuse that vain people use for it. I have no trouble keeping in touch with my friends without using Facebook."  
Matthew shrugged.

"That's because Tom and William are your only friends and they live next door to you." Mary deadpanned.

Matthew turned to her with narrowed eyes. "Maybe we should just watch something rather than argue this out." He suggested, knowing how long their arguments were prone to last.

Mary looked at him with faux-sympathy. "Aww, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings by pointing out your lack of friends." She rubbed his arm, as if to comfort him. She was mocking him, he knew, but he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire at her touch, however platonic it was. It had been the same when he'd held her in his arms earlier that day; he could've sworn that she'd been about to kiss him, too, which had set his pulse racing even faster. He'd had to leave her abruptly, without speaking, just to calm his nerves. "What do you want to watch?" She asked, readjusting herself on the chair to make herself more comfortable. "Not anything about steam trains." She pre-emptively vetoed, apparently seeing him inch his cursor closer to the documentaries section of the website.

"If you just let me take you to the London Transport Museum-" He began.

"We're not having this conversation again, Matthew!" Mary cut him off.

After a few minutes of bickering and fighting over his laptop, they settled on watching the week's episodes of Come Dine With Me. Surprisingly, they both enjoyed the programmes in equal measure, laughing at the contestants and making unfavourable comparisons to each other.

"I think that Liverpudlian guy should have won." Mary said, once the final episode was over.

"Are you joking? His risotto was completely lacking in flavour!" Matthew retorted, switching the laptop off.

"You do know that we just watched other people eat the food and have no real idea what it tasted like?" Mary said drily.

"Whatever." Matthew said dismissively. "I think I'd be really good on Come Dine With Me. My mum was telling me I should try out for it."

Mary laughed. "Seriously? Matthew, you're way too normal and vanilla to be a contestant on that."

"Maybe you'd be more interesting on it," Matthew said, trying not to take offence at her choice of 'vanilla' to describe him, "with your butler and whatnot. Only problem is that you'd have to share your 17th-century cutlery with the common folk."

Mary glared at him playfully. "I let you use it, didn't I?" She said with deliberate condescension. Matthew chuckled and she smiled. She yawned and lent her head against the back of the chair.

"Are you tired?" Matthew asked with concern. It wasn't late yet, but she had seemed awfully busy, and quite stressed, during the day in her efforts to organise the play and manage their obstinate peers.

Mary shook her head, looking slightly bashful at her display of drowsiness. "No, I'm fine."

"You don't need to stay here to keep me company, you know - you can go to bed if you want to." Matthew smirked.

"I know. I was planning on falling asleep here and having you carry me back to my room." Mary said flirtatiously, the hint of sleepiness in her voice lending it a slight huskiness.

"Carry you twice in one day? That would just be spoiling myself." Matthew flirted back. He was overcome by the urge to kiss her, but was still wary of her request to cool things down between them. The ball was in her court now.

But what was this? Mary, ever so slowly, began edging her way towards him. There wasn't much distance to cover, as they had been sat very closely anyway, so she was soon a mere two inches away from him. His gaze dropped to her lips, which were puckered. Her tongue darted out to wet them, and he swallowed hard. She was so pretty, and so wonderful, and she was about to kiss him. There wasn't much time to dwell on his luck, though, as her soft lips brushed against his.

At first, her kiss was tentative, almost nervous. It was a far cry from their first few kisses, which had been all passion and sexual tension and animalistic lust. This was sweet, and slow, and...different. It was the kind of kiss a couple would have, Matthew thought, as their mouths tasted and caressed each other.

Matthew shifted himself on the sofa and wrapped his arms around her, their lips never breaking contact. She was warm and fragrant and fit against his body so snugly. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, and she willingly let him, but it remained languid and sensual. Their mouths opened to each other and his nose began brushing against her cheek. She sighed with pleasure and pressed herself closer against him, gripping his hair in her fingers. She made him feel so wanted, so desired, brimming with confidence and satisfaction.

And that was how she left him feeling later that night, when she departed from his room with another soft kiss, her hand resting on his chest as she tip-toed up to meet his lips, with a promise to 'do this again sometime'.

...

_A/N: as always, let me know what you think! My plan at the moment is to have the next chapter be Valentine's Day, but I'm open to ideas as to what you'd like to see...xxx_


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